“I don’t have a watermelon head.” Jamie stood to the side, glowering like he’d received the worst insult in the world. Considering he was in love with Layla, it probably was. I couldn’t help but laugh, ruffling his hair as I passed him on my way into the kitchen.
“If ya’ll are done with your pissing contest, I need to get started on dinner. Would you like to stay and eat, Garrett?” I looked at him over the bar, offering the friendliest smile I could.
He’d already been looking at me before I spoke, and if anything, his gaze seemed to spark with my question. Nate was my only experience with having a male friend, and I suddenly wondered if I’d crossed a line. Did he think I was hitting on him?
My face heated under his attention. “It’s nothing fancy, I’m making spaghetti and steaming up some veggies. But I tend to always make too much, so you’re more than welcome to stay.”
He shifted his weight, leaning his elbows onto the bar. “I don’t think I’ve ever known someone who didn’t make too much spaghetti.”
I chuckled, “True.”
He watched me wander the small kitchen, setting out pots and ingredients. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“No, I got it, why don’t you go relax. We don’t have cable or any streaming services, but there’s a container of movies in the coat closet.”
He paused, pushing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. “You mind if I fire up a game with Jamie?”
“That’s fine—” I started, but I trailed off at the two inches of flat stomach that greeted me when Garrett raised his hoodie over his head. He folded it across the back of a barstool, and I quickly averted my gaze while he adjusted his shirt, hoping he hadn’t noticed me ogling him.
Luckily for me, my little eavesdropper overheard Garrett’s question and was bobbing his head up and down next to the neighbor he’d sworn he didn’t like. I rolled my eyes and pointed at him. “Make sure you kick his butt.”
The kid nodded seriously, “I will.”
Chuckling and sending the boys away, I raised my brows and looked over at Layla, who’d been watching the entire thing with a ‘bitch, you got some shit to tell me’ look on her face.
“Get in here and help.”
She sucked on her teeth, putting her hands on her hips. “You just told him you had it under control.”
“Yeah, and I do, because you’re going to come chop up the veggies for me.”
Like a lion on the hunt, Layla marched into the kitchen, cornering me while I was elbow deep in dish water and couldn’t escape. I could tell by the glint in her eye, I wasn’t going to like whatever it was she had to say.
While we’d cooked, she’d told me more about Rick, the musician she’d finally admitted to hooking up with, and I was happy she’d found someone besides me she enjoyed spending time with.
The problem was she’d used her new relationship as an excuse to poke at me about my own dating life, again trying to convince me to try online dating. I’d brushed it off with an “I’ll think about it.”
For the most part, I’d been able to turn the conversation back to her throughout the evening and got a small reprieve while we’d all eaten. We’d all sat at the table, trading small talk and teasing Jamie about finally getting whooped on his game.
I smiled, remembering how appalled Garrett had looked when I’d scooped up my spaghetti and dumped it on a slice of buttered bread. I’d made sure to make direct eye contact when I shoved it in my mouth. I was serious about my food, and spaghetti sandwiches were a staple in my house.
Overall, it’d been a wonderful evening, but as soon as Jamie hopped in the shower, Layla had twisted, beelining for me. Garrett was still over, but he was in the living room, wrapping up the controllers and putting the system away. I’d told him not to worry about it, but he’d only looked at me like I was an idiot and done it anyway.
“So.”
Continuing to scrub the pan in my hands, I asked, “So, what?”
She groaned, smacking her hand on the counter. “Online dating! You said earlier that you’d think about it.”
“And you believed me?” I laughed, leaning to the side, trying to keep the rinsed pan over the sink while reaching for the towel I’d inadvertently left near the stove.
A large hand appeared in my peripheral, grabbing it and handing it to me from over the bar. I offered him a look that was half smile, half grimace, thankful while simultaneously wishing he’d go back into the living room so he wouldn’t hear our conversation.
Determined to make a point, Layla transferred her attention to him. “How old are you, Garrett?”
“Thirty-six.”
“Okay, so a little older. And have you ever met someone online?”
“Once.”
“And?”
He grunted. “And what?”
“Did you at least get laid?”
“Jesus, Layla, don’t ask him that.” I did not need the mental image of Garrett’s body sexing some other chick. Wait, other? No, any. Any chick.
She shrugged. She and I had never viewed sex the same way. She saw it as a simple activity for mutual pleasure that anyone could, and should, participate in whenever they wanted. I saw it as something personal. I’d never had a one-night stand. In fact, I’d only ever slept with two men, and both had been serious relationships.
“I’m just saying, it’s a win-win for you. Maybe you meet the man of your dreams, maybe not. But you could at least get a good night out of it. Lord knows your strung-out ass needs it.”
I glared at her, slapping the towel back onto the counter and reaching for the last pot. “Hard pass.”
She groaned. “Your soulmate could be waiting for you right now, and you don’t even know it.”
That had me bursting out laughing. “No man is waiting for this hot mess express. My baggage has baggage. I got suitcases and carry-ons, backpacks and purses. The entire fucking plane is full. If a man attempted to board, we’d plummet from the sky.”
She flung her hands forward, fingers spread wide, enunciating each of her words, “That’s why online dating is perfect for you. Put it up front that you have a kid and work a lot. Only the guys who are accepting of all that will message you.”
“Plus, the ones who want to take me out with the intention of slipping me a roofie.” I forced a laugh that didn’t quite match my eyes, but Layla didn’t accept the white flag I was clearly waving. She knew I was trying to brush off the conversation, and she’d decided she wasn’t playing anymore.
“You can’t be scared of men forever.”
Aware of Garrett’s vision burning a hole in the side of my head, I turned to face her fully. “I’m not scared of men, Layla. I’m just not interested in dating. I’m stretched thin as it is.”
“It’s been years, Mads. We’re social creatures, we’re not meant to be alone.”
“I’m not alone,” I said, but it came out snappy and defensive. Smoothing my voice back out, I said, “I’m happy with how things are.”
She shook her head, backing out of the kitchen. “No, Mads, you’re not. You’ve just decided it’s easier to let him win.” She raised her hand in farewell to Garrett, turning toward the hallway. “I’m going to steal your shower since Jamie’s in this one. Goodnight, Garrett.”
I watched her disappear into her bedroom, Sadie at her heels. The house was suddenly too quiet, the only sound being Jamie’s shower. My eyes stung, and I didn’t know what to do with my face.
Layla was brutal and honest, and she could be a real bitch, but she was rarely ever wrong about me. I loved the hell out of her, but sometimes I hated how see-through I was to her.
“I’m going to step out for a smoke before I head home. Come out, you look like you could use some air.”
I cut my eyes to Garrett, taking in the lines of his face and letting him do the same to me. I wasn’t sure how he knew, but that was exactly what I needed. “Sure. Give me a second to go let Jamie know where I’ll be.”
He could have gone ahead and stepped out, but he didn’t. He waited for me, pack in one hand, hoodie in the other. Opening the door, he stepped to the side, letting me pass.