Disorderly Conduct (The Academy #1)

Nina passes by with an empty tray and without breaking stride, grabs my arm and leads me toward a staircase on the opposite side of the vestibule. Danika follows me, but Jack is already wading into the hall full of women, slipping the deck of cards from his pocket and cocking his head, as if to say, who’s ready for some actual fun?

Bringing Jack might have been a bad idea. He’d learned to entertain the johns in the brothel where his mother worked, while they waited for their appointment. He entertained the women, too, when they weren’t occupied. But this isn’t exactly his typical crowd.

My concern is replaced by . . . more concern when we walk into the kitchen and I spot Ever looking frantic. My steps falter along with the ticker in my chest, I think because until that moment, I’m not sure I knew Ever. And something inside me rebels over that fact. This is what she does? I pictured her drizzling strawberries with chocolate, dressed in a cute apron and nothing else. Instead, she’s like a beautiful pinball bouncing back and forth between the stove and a stainless-steel table lined with trays. This is what she loves. What she loves is hard. We have this in common, same way we have pressure from our parents in common.

I hear a low whistle and glance over at Danika, finding her staring at my profile. “I take it back. I have no idea how this story ends.” She nudges me. “Go to her, Lancelot.”

I do. Because I don’t have a choice. I’m going to make this night better for Ever, or I’ll consider my whole life a failure. I make footprints in the layer of flour on the floor as I walk toward her. When I’m five feet away, she turns, a hunk of blonde hanging down in front of her right eye. “Can you pin my hair back? My hands are covered in . . . everything.”

“I-I don’t know. I’ve never done it before,” I say honestly, looking down at my hands, all my fingers turning into thumbs. “Where is the pin?”

She cocks her hip at me. “Pocket.”

Solid. I’ve only been here one minute and I’m already touching her, sliding my fingers into her pocket, all while staring at her mouth. That pouty, kiss factory I always have trouble leaving alone long enough to get our clothes off. There isn’t a lot of time spent rejoicing over having my digits in Ever’s pocket, though, because what the fuck is this plastic contraption I’ve just pulled out? It’s got teeth and it looks like a clam. “Okay, I can do this,” I mumble. “How do I do this?”

“Pinch the top together. There.” She tilts her head. “Just get that one piece, stick it on top of my head and lock the little spikes around it.”

Jesus, her hair is soft. I knew that, didn’t I? Her ear is perfect, too, like a peach-colored shell or—

“Focus, Charlie.”

“Sorry.” I manage to secure the hair on top of her head and release the pent-up breath I didn’t realize was being stored in my lungs. “There you go.”

“Thank you.” There’s a streak of green sauce on her cheek, and she rubs it off on her shoulder.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Her eyes dip to my mouth and I almost do it. I almost kiss her. But she looks past me before I potentially blow my first real chance to be her friend. “You were with Charlie the day we met, but we kind of . . .”

“Gave each other a tongue bath?” my smart-ass roommate supplies. “I’m Danika.” She steps into my periphery, eyeballing the half-full tray Ever is working on. “Charlie and I are in the academy together. I have no romantic interest in him, should that be of any concern to you.”

“Thanks, Danny,” I say dryly.

Ever’s gaze cuts sideways, but she doesn’t give me any clue as to what she thinks of Danika’s remark. Dammit. “Nice to meet you, Danika.” She wiggles her food-covered fingers. “I would shake your hand . . .”

“No worries. Put us to work.”

Ever shakes herself, as if she’d been plunged back into reality and reality is a kitchen full of boiling pots and oven timers going off. “Now that I can do.”

For the next ten minutes, I feel like a spare tool. Actually, I would like to go back in time and slap the version of myself I’d been on the subway. I was not Ever’s white knight charging in on a noble steed. Ever is her own knight. I’m the court jester.

She moves like nothing I’ve ever seen. While I didn’t grow up with a woman in the kitchen, so I have nothing with which to compare Ever’s style, I pick up on a few nuances as I watch her prepare the next round of hors d’oeuvres. Detective’s eye and all that jazz. Her movements aren’t . . . precise, exactly. They’re somewhat stilted, like she’s learning as she goes. She has notecards propped up in various spots on the counter and checks them frequently, her lips moving as she reads the words.

When I take my phone out and secretly film her, Danika shakes her head at me, then goes back to looking at Twitter on her own cell. I don’t know why I’m filming Ever, but I know I want to watch this again later. Jesus, she’s extraordinary. And I can tell by the nervous way she keeps wringing her hands in a dishrag, she doesn’t know it.

“Okay,” Ever calls over. “These are ready to go up.”

Danika grabs a tray and heads confidently toward the staircase, same way she does everything. I start to pick up my own tray, but Ever stops me, laying a hand on my arm. “Wait.” She picks up a little bundle of meat and shaved vegetables, holding it against my mouth. “Eat?”

The way she makes it a question sends a flame burning up my esophagus. Memories of her cooking every time I walked in the door of her apartment flip through my mind. The way she used to leave it all out on the counter while we got busy. And I wonder if that was her secret way of offering me some of her creations. I never took her up on it. “Lay it on me,” I rasp.

I’ll go to the grave swearing it’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Food-wise. Ever’s pussy beats it by a mile, but in terms of stuff I can chew, this meat and vegetable bundle is insane.

She rolls her shoulder. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m going to sneak about eight more on my way up the stairs.” She beams at me, and I wish I’d said a higher number than eight. “Damn, Ever. You’re great at this.”

“Yeah?”

No one’s told her. “Yes. Better than great.” I notice that chunk of hair I clipped up early has come loose again, so I reach up and fix it carefully, feeling her eyes on me the whole time. I don’t know what she’s seeing, but it’s probably confusion.

I thought being Ever’s friend was going to be difficult.

Now I’m starting to wonder what took me so long.





Chapter 11





Ever