Evan did end up coming over for lunch on Tuesday, but so did Jade. She feels better if she’s around whenever Evan and I are in the same room together. Of course, the entire time, Jade kept talking about Nate and how he and I were the perfect couple back then. She even went as far as to announce how Nate was the guy I’d lost my virginity to. Evan wasn’t amused. He actually left afterwards and I haven’t heard from him since. It’s hard not to be disappointed.
There isn’t any time for me to worry about Evan and where he’s been because Nate is coming for dinner tonight. While I cleaned this morning, I was thinking about how I hope Nate knows we can only ever be friends and having a meal together won’t change anything. Perhaps I should’ve thought this through a little better. We should be having dinner in a public place rather than on my lanai. That was our usual spot. We spent plenty of nights out there laughing, swimming under the stars, and making out. It may not be everyone’s ideal date night, but it was ours.
For some crazy ass reason, I decide to make a homemade chocolate cake for dessert tonight. Gram used to make it all the time and everyone always loved it. It can’t be all that hard. After retrieving her recipe book from the drawer, along with all the ingredients from around the kitchen, I’m ready to get started.
“Grease and flour three six inch by two inch cake pans,” I begin, reading the instructions aloud. “Why the hell does there need to be three pans?” I let out a sigh, disgusted with myself for talking to an empty room, and irritated that the pans won’t grease themselves. Once that step is out of the way, I realize it was the worst part. Following a recipe shouldn’t be difficult, even for me. Before I can get to the next step, the doorbell rings. Turning to look at the clock, I see it’s noon. Lunchtime. My heart skips a beat as excitement pours through me and I race to the door. If Evan isn’t on the other side of it, my day will totally be ruined. For a moment, it’s a tad worrisome how happy I am over the fact that Evan Pierce might be standing outside my door.
Peeking out of the window and seeing Evan’s black truck parked behind my car almost causes me to squeal like a teenager. Only knowing he’d be able to hear me silences my enthusiasm. I open the door and Evan is standing there, holding a white Styrofoam cup and a brown paper bag. He looks at me with those beautiful blue eyes and gives me his sexy smirk.
“Strawberry milkshake and cheesesteaks,” he announces.
“You know, you don’t have to bring food to come over, right?” I babble, leaning on the door for support.
“I could just keep this for myself,” he tells me, starting to raise the cup to his mouth. Before he can put my straw to his lips, I reach out for the cup.
“I said food. A strawberry milkshake is required for entry.” He chuckles, hands the cup over, and walks by me into the house.
When I catch up to him in the kitchen, he’s looking at the mess spread all over my counter. “What’s going on here?”
“I’m going to make a homemade cake,” I say, slurping my milkshake.
“You bake?”
“Not really,” I admit.
Evan smiles and takes both sandwiches out of the bag. “What’s the occasion?”
“For dessert tonight,” I say without thinking.
He pauses. “Right. Your date is tonight.” Evan doesn’t look up as he brings our lunch over to the table.
“You sound like Jade,” I sigh, sitting down next to him. “It’s not a date.”
“How is it not a date?”
“It’s just two old friends having a meal. Just the other day, someone told me how having a meal with someone isn’t a big deal,” I say.
“Kacie, I saw the look on his face when you said yes. He definitely thinks it’s a date.”
“Stop it.” I slap him playfully on the arm. “It’s not a date. Nate knows he and I will only ever be friends.”
Suddenly, I feel the mood change. “Are you sure?”
My stubbornness gets the best of me and the words fly out of my mouth. “What if he doesn’t? Why would you care?” Our eyes are locked and I’m not sure why there is so much tension between the two of us right now.
“Because you’re my friend and I don’t want to see you get hurt,” he mumbles with a pained expression.
“You have nothing to worry about. Everything will be fine,” I assure him.
We finish our lunch not discussing Nate or dinner tonight. Evan apologizes for not coming over yesterday. He tells me he had to meet with his mechanic, but when I ask what was wrong with his truck, he says it’s fine. I try to tell him it’s not necessary to have lunch with me every day, nor does he have to explain where he’s been. He proceeds to clarify how he enjoys eating lunch with me and would like to do it as often as I’ll allow him. Even though I wonder why he would want to have lunch with me so often, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as hard as possible without drawing blood. He doesn’t need to see me smile over this.
Now that we’ve finished lunch, I can’t help but feel a little upset that he’ll be leaving soon. Before I can come up with a reason he should stay, Evan drags a stool over to where the ingredients are waiting on the counter. “Mind if I sit and watch this disaster waiting to happen?” He’s mocking my ability to bake. Unfortunately, he isn’t too far off.
“I wouldn’t get too close,” I tell him, happy that he’s going to hang around. “There’s a reason Jade doesn’t let me in the kitchen when she cooks.”
Evan shakes his head. “So why didn’t you just buy something for dessert like any normal person would do then?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Where’s the adventure in that?”
“I almost feel bad your friend will have to eat this.”
“Watch it,” I warn, making him laugh. I start to measure out the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, and baking soda, then dump them into the large mixing bowl in front of me. Once they are all mixed together, I set the bowl aside and begin to mix the butter, eggs, and vanilla together. The next thing the instructions say to do is gradually add in the sugar. “Why can’t I just dump all of it in at the same time?” I’m mostly asking myself, but he has to add in his two cents.
“Probably to make it easier to mix, or so it doesn’t go all over the place when you stir it.” I should try harder at keeping my thoughts to myself.
“How the hell do you know?”
Evan laughs, yet again. “Just seems logical.”
“Shut up,” I say, turning on the mixer to drown him out. He gets off the stool and comes around behind me. Looking over my shoulder, he reads the recipe and starts adding the remaining ingredients when necessary. Careful to make sure my fingers don’t get caught in the mixer, I try to concentrate on the task in front of me rather than how close Evan is. His arm keeps brushing against mine when he grabs something which, more than likely, is done deliberately. Whenever he reaches over to pour more flour into the bowl, he’ll place his other hand on my hip, pretending to balance himself. My breath gets caught in my throat. My heart is pounding in my chest. The only thought running through my head is how much I want him right here in the fucking kitchen.
The next thing I know, Evan is taking the mixer out of my hand and turning it off. In a low voice, he says in my ear, “I think it’s done.” Glancing down at the bowl, the batter is smooth and creamy. Damn him! How the hell does he do this shit to me? I grab the bowl and start pouring the mixture into the first greased cake pan. “Aren’t you going to taste it first?” Evan asks. When I look up, he points to the bowl. “That’s the best part. Besides, you have to make sure it’s not missing anything.”
“You think I’d be able to figure out what it needs if it was?” I ask, still trying to clear my head of how his hands were just all over me.
He picks up a teaspoon off the counter, scoops up some batter, then holds it out for me. “Try it.”
I take a little off the tip of the utensil. “It tastes fine to me.”
Then he puts the spoon into his mouth, eating what’s left. “It’s delicious, although
it could be you I taste,” he says with that damn sexy smirk on his overly handsome face.
Immediately, I turn my back to him and continue filling the other two cake pans. “If it was me you tasted, you would have already been asking for more.” Hopefully, my words sound as confident as the remark he just made.
Again, he’s right behind me, close enough that his entire body is pressed up against mine. Evan puts his hands on the edge of the counter on either side of my hips, holding me there. “You are definitely the cockiest chick I’ve ever met.”
I grip the wooden spoon and the mixing bowl even tighter. “If you don’t like it, you can always find someone else to have lunch with,” I say, keeping my eyes straight ahead. Those words definitely came out more timid than I meant.
Evan pries the spoon out of my hand, places it in the bowl before removing it from my opposite hand, then puts them on the counter. I feel his hands go to my hips as he slowly spins me around. His fingers brush lightly along the top of my shorts as I turn. Facing him might just make my heart rip through the front of my chest. The smirk is gone and his eyes are hooded. “You seem to be the only one I want to have lunch with these days.” I wonder if he’s still talking about lunch, or if he’s referring to something else. Something else sounds really good right about now.
“Then I guess you’ll just have to get used to my cockiness.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he murmurs as he lightly runs his fingertips along my sides, then pulls away from me. He shoves his hand through his hair as if he’s irritated about something. “I need to get to Skyline. There’s some shit I need to get ready for tonight.”
“Okay.” I can hear the disappointment in my response and hope he didn’t catch it. “Thanks for bringing lunch,” I add, trying to cover it up.
He smiles at me. “Anytime.” As he backs out of the kitchen, he sarcastically adds, “Good luck on your date tonight.” I grab the closest spoon and throw it at him. He ducks just in time, causing him to laugh. “You may not be able to cook, but you sure can throw. I’ll have to remember that. See ya!” he calls out as he leaves. Damn him, again!
Once the cake is cooling and the homemade buttercream icing is ready, I find myself out in the garden for the third time this week. Being out here makes me feel better, almost like I’m closer to Gram. Many shades of purple, pink, and yellow, combined with the white from the daisies, make this wildflower garden absolutely beautiful. When Gram and I first started planting our garden, we both agreed wildflowers were perfect. Getting the spot ready was the hardest part. You have to make sure the area is as free from weeds as possible or they will take over. Maintenance is very low for a wildflower garden, so we got to spend more time simply enjoying it. It covers the whole back of the property, except for where the steps leading to the dock interrupt it. On the one end, there’s the white wooden swing. There’s also a birdbath and various different kinds of feeders hanging around. I filled those the other day. Gram would never let them go empty. She loved watching all the different kinds of birds that would come through the yard. Last summer, we discussed putting in a pond out here, but Gram decided to wait until I came home. Now, I don’t want to do it without her.
Eventually, the hot sun forces me to go inside and shower before Nate comes over. Picking out something to wear proves to be harder than anticipated. The first four tops I try on are entirely too revealing. Do I own any clothes that aren’t slutty? I settle for layering a light blue cami underneath a black low-cut t-shirt, and my denim shorts. Feeling that I’m adequately covered, I grab a pair of my flip flops out of the closet, then go downstairs. All three layers of the cake are cool, so I spread the icing over them and assemble it on the glass server. After placing the cover over it, I set the whole thing on the far counter thinking how it would be more enjoyable to share the cake with a certain someone who isn’t Nate.
A few minutes before seven, the doorbell rings. Unlike earlier, I leisurely stroll over to open the door. “Hey,” Nate says when I finally get there. He’s holding takeout from our favorite Italian place and a bouquet of red roses. He still doesn’t get I’m not the kind of girl who likes roses.
I step aside, giving him room to enter. “Hey,” I return his greeting with a smile.
Nate hands me the flowers as he comes in. “I got these for you.”
“Thank you. They’re beautiful,” I say because they are, but is it too much to ask for someone to know the type of flowers I like?
“I picked up lasagna. Hope you still like it.” He sounds nervous.
“Who doesn’t love lasagna?” I reply. “I’m going to put these in some water. Do you want to eat inside or out?”
“Outside okay?”
“Sure.” It takes me a second to find a vase. There are some pretty ones in the China cabinet in the dining room, but I’m not ready to disturb it yet. I fill the vase up with water and place the flowers in it. “I set some plates and silverware over on the table next to the door. We can just grab them on the way out.”
He looks around the house. “Other than the new furniture in the living room, nothing else has changed.” Nate is still as handsome as when we started dating. He even keeps his blonde hair cut short like he always did.
“That and Gram isn’t here.” I only bring it up to get it out of the way, not to make him feel bad.
“I’m so sorry, Kacie. I know how much she meant to you.”
I briefly consider correcting him. She still means the world to me, but I know what he’s trying to say. “Thanks. I’m still trying to deal with it. Maybe someday it will be easier.”
“Maybe.” He pauses. “I was at the funeral.”
“You were?” I ask, surprised.
“I was. You were sitting in the front row because you were too upset to stand with your family. Jake held you as you cried. I never saw you cry before that day.” He seems disturbed at the memory.
“I don’t think I stopped crying for a few weeks.” The day of the funeral plays over and over in my head.
“You didn’t need me or anyone else coming up to bother you, but I made sure to sign the guest book because I figured you should know I was there.”
“I never saw anything from the funeral home. My mom took everything.” He sighs, letting me know he understands.
After a brief pause, I ask, “Hungry?”
Nate visibly relaxes. “Starving.”
“Want a beer?”
“Sounds good,” he answers, picking up the food. I grab two beers from the refrigerator and the stuff I had ready, then follow Nate outside. The umbrella is already up and the table is clean. We both sit on the shaded side of the table because the sun is still pretty warm this time of day. Nate dishes out the lasagna for us. “How’s everything with school? Did you graduate?”
“Yes, only you won’t believe what I did,” I say. Telling people the truth seems to be getting easier.
He takes a bite of his dinner. “This place still has the best lasagna. Don’t tell my mom I said that.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” I chuckle.
“So, what did you do that I won’t believe?”
“I changed my major. I’m going to be teaching next year.”
“I’m not surprised,” he says, completely unfazed.
“You aren’t?”
“Nope. You’re not doctor material, Kacie. You never were. Remember the time I was showing off in front of you and I fell off my bike? My knee was busted up. You looked like you were going to pass out. I was actually a little scared,” he laughs. I shudder at the memory of blood and missing skin. “Or there was the time we were at the park up the road and some kid fell off of the monkey bars. His head was bleeding and you threw up in the trash can.”
“Okay. You can knock it off now,” I say, slowly putting my fork down.
“You don’t look so good.”
I’m squeezing my eyes closed, hoping the horrible feeling in my stomach subsides quickly. “Thanks to you,” I declare.
&nbs
p; “I’m sorry.” He’s trying to stifle his laugh. “Take a sip of beer. Wash it down.” I open my eyes to see Nate holding the bottle out to me. After taking a drink and concentrating solely on the grass in the yard, the feeling goes away. “Feel better?”
“Yes,” I utter.
Nate shoves a forkful of food into his mouth. “You better hope your students don’t get hurt or sick in front of you.” He smirks and it reminds me how much I wish Evan was here.
“You’re a comedian all of a sudden.”
“Just proves how well I know you, Kacie. The way you react to…,” I shoot him a warning glare to think hard about what he says, “…stuff isn’t something that changes. I was the only person to tell you back then.”
“All I remember you telling me was how much I’d be losing by going to school so far away.”
Nate sighs. “I may have foolishly said something like that,” he admits. “Look, I didn’t ask you to have dinner with me so I could make you sick, or so you could tell me how much I fucked up by not supporting you. I know that was what you needed. When I saw you the other day, everything I ever felt for you resurfaced the moment I felt you in my arms.”
Panic sets in. “Nate.” I shake my head. “Please don’t do this.”
“Hear me out. What we had was amazing and I have no doubt that if I wasn’t such a selfish bastard, we’d still be together. I should have just admitted how afraid I was of losing you instead of pushing you away. No one has made me feel the way you do.”
“We wouldn’t have lasted.”
My honesty shocks him. “Why not?”
“You never trusted me. Relationships without trust never last.”
He knows exactly what I’m referring to. “It wasn’t you I didn’t trust. It was Jake.” Nate glances over toward the Quinn’s backyard.
Left Behind: Left Behind Series #1 Page 12