"YOU READY to give me some credit now?"
I crouched in the stool in front of the kitchen island watching Keegan load our dishes into the dishwasher. He had made us French dip sandwiches so they could "soak up the alcohol I regurgitated last night." His words, not mine. I hated to admit it, but he was right. It helped ease the nausea that had been lurking around in my stomach since the moment I woke up.
Thankfully, he was now wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt since I refused to eat anything until he put some clothes on.
His ego didn't need to be stroked anymore than it was already but I had to give credit where credit was due. "Ugh, fine," I groaned out. "You are a fantastic sandwich maker." I grabbed the towel in front of me and I tossed it at him, hitting his chest.
"About damn time I got a compliment from you. It only took what? A month." He shut the dishwasher with his knee, wiping his hands on the towel.
"You have entirely too many girls handing you compliments without having to worry about mine."
"Was that yet another compliment?" he asked, leaning into the counter.
"Absolutely not. Where did you even learn to cook like that?"
"My mom is always gone so it was either keep eating shitty fast food or learn to cook. So I taught myself to make a few things." I still hadn't seen his mom since I'd been here. She was always out of town. His phone rang and he looked down at the caller ID this time.
"About damn time you called you called back," he said, holding the phone to his ear. My fingers were crossed that it was either Lane or Cora on the other end. His head nodded a few times, listening to whatever the person on the other end was saying. "Yeah, where's her bag?" Jackpot. "I'll let her know and text you."
Ending the call, he tossed his phone down on the counter. "They are having lunch at Cora's with her parents. We can go pick up your bag from her house or he said they could drop it by when they're done." I wanted to get my bags and get out of there, but I could only imagine what Cora's parents would think if I showed up at their place with Keegan, grabbing my night bag from the place I didn't stay last night.
"Just tell her to drop it off whenever they are finished." I hated how my stupidity was a burden to everyone else because I couldn't handle my alcohol. I looked up at him. "I mean if that's okay with you. If you have something going on, I can go get it now."
"You can hang out here all day if you want." I surprisingly felt myself smile like I hadn't in months. I wasn't sure if it was the affection withdrawals loving it or if my heart liked hearing a guy who was a raging asshole to everyone say something so nice to me. I stared into his eyes, unable to break away, but I wasn't the only one. He responded, peering into mine with those luminous emeralds. It was like one of those cheesy insta-love movies people (including me) shake their head at and make fun of. He was the first to break away, running his hands down his head and shaking it.
"I'm thinking a movie while we wait," he said, walking around the island and grabbing my hand. "I'll be a gentleman and let you pick the movie." Our hands interlaced and he dragged me out of the kitchen into the living room. "Get comfortable. I'll go grab a few movies and a blanket." He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down on the large, white sectional before leaving the room.
I shifted around on the couch, but it was about as comfortable as an ironing board. I finally got somewhat comfortable and leaned back against the cushion. "Alright," he called out, walking back into the room with an arm full of DVDs and a blanket. "I have Titanic because for some reason chicks think it's romantic to see their apparent ‘love of their life’ die in front of them or something." He held up the DVD in front of him, showing me the cover, completely clueless how his words affected me.
Every muscle in my body locked up and I instantly pulled my legs into my chest, forming a ball to create my own, private barrier. Air punched from my lungs as my breathing began to grow shallower. I counted to ten like my therapist had trained me to do whenever this happened, but it wasn't working. My heart was pressing harder into my chest and I got slightly panicky. My hands slid up my face to cover my embarrassment and I slid it in between my knees, just in time for the first tear to slip through my eyelashes.
"Shit," I overheard Keegan curse and the couch dented in beside me. "Are you okay?" I couldn't see him, but I caught the concern in his voice. Keeping my face masked, I nodded slowly. Was I always going to be a damn basket case? My body flinched at the gentle touch of his hand running down my crouched back while the tears flooded faster. His hands massaged my back, moving his hand in small circles.