by Steph Nuss
“Yes,” she said softly, nodding. “I understand.”
“And the laundry … I can do my own laundry.”
“I know,” she smirked, waving her hand for me to continue. “Continue with your rant.”
I smiled at her, and the ball of anxiety that had developed in the pit of my stomach quickly unraveled as I confessed, “I do laundry on Sundays.”
Last Sunday, I went into the laundry room and found both hampers completely empty. She’d already washed a load and had another one in the dryer. I had to run ten miles at the gym to calm down.
“What if you’re busy on a Sunday?” she quipped, making a jab at my obsessive-compulsive behavior.
“Then I wake up earlier or stay up later to get it done, but Sundays are laundry days.”
“So, I can do my laundry on Saturdays?” she asked, a playful smile lighting up her face.
“Yes, just don’t touch mine,” I replied, hopping down. Still sitting on the counter, she was at eye level with me now. “Are you regretting moving in with me?”
She laughed out loud, but shook her head. “No way. I’m actually surprised it took you this long to snap.”
“I’m sorry,” I said as I observed her. Her gray eyes sparkled against her fair skin with her soft brown hair framing her oval face. Gone was the sad, distressed look in her eyes, replaced by a playful gleam she wore so well. She was so outgoing and flexible, at times I found myself wishing I were more like her and less like the meticulous neurotic I’d become.
“It’s okay,” she offered sweetly, patting me on the shoulder. “Next time, just tell me when something’s bothering you right away. Don’t bottle it all up again. It’s not a good look on you.”
“Deal.” Walking over to the stove, I turned it back on and moved the skillet onto the burner. “Okay, so tell me what we’re making here.”
“Cheeseburger macaroni,” she answered.
“Like Hamburger Helper?”
“Ugh, no.” She wrinkled her nose in offense. “This is homemade, not from some box!”
She started to hop down from the counter, but I stopped her. “No, just tell me what to do. Elly and Bayler say I need to learn how to cook.”
She smiled and got comfortable, pulling her legs up to sit Indian style. “You do need to learn. So, you’ll start by browning the hamburger in the skillet. I’ve already mixed up my special sauce. It’s way better than the box crap.”
I did as I was told, breaking the hamburger into little pieces and moving it around the pan with a spatula as it cooked.
“While the meat’s cooking, you can go ahead and get out the sauce that’s in the fridge and the macaroni from the pantry. Once the hamburger’s done, you’ll drain it in the colander in the sink, and then stir in the sauce mixture and macaroni. After that, you’ll just keep stirring occasionally and cover the skillet with the lid. When the pasta is tender, it’s ready to eat.”
“All right.”
As I grabbed the other ingredients, Tessa changed the subject. “You know, I grew up with parents who weren’t really around either. They were too busy doing drugs or getting drunk to worry about taking care of me, so I fended for myself most of the time. When Trey came along, I started taking care of him almost immediately. Even at the age of five I knew Mom and my stepdad weren’t able to handle one kid let alone two.”
“What about your dad?” I asked.
“He died in a car accident before I was born.”
“I’m so sorry, Tessa,” I said, shaking my head. “For everything you’ve had to go through. No kid should have to grow up like that, taking care of everything on their own.”
“And no kid should be pawned off on a nanny or a grandparent.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I smiled weakly at her, appreciating the fact that she understood. I’d never really talked about my past with anyone before, but her affirmation comforted me. She wasn’t pushing me for more, or trying to get me to talk about my feelings. She simply accepted our pasts for what they were, and I admired that about her. I’d always liked Tessa, but right now I felt like kissing her.
I want to kiss you, Tessa Wilder.
Acceptance was all it took for a person to open up, and she’d just broken me.
Chapter Five
A few weeks later, I went on my first date with a guy from the Internet. We’d agreed to meet for lunch at a place I’d never heard of before on 46th Street. The minute I walked in, I immediately wanted to leave. It was a vegetarian bar.
A VEGETARIAN BAR.
I preferred meat. Almost anything with a face, really. Even when I ate a salad, I doctored it up with bacon and cheese and drenched it in ranch. I was all for eating healthy, but I wasn’t about to go the organic route. Organic was expensive, and it tasted like crap. Hell, humans probably tasted better than the tofu burger I ordered. I should’ve realized he was a pacifist by his name and occupation: Orion, the conservationist.
I ended up apologizing to him and leaving before the check even arrived. Thankfully, he offered to pay for the whole meal since I barely ate any of mine. However, he did ask for a to-go box so he could take my tofu burger and sweet potato fries home with him.
Ugh, sick!
I ran back to Elly’s clinic, rushing over to the table where she, Carter and Justin sat, and fell into the chair next to my roommate.
“Please tell me you packed the leftover tacos from last night,” I said, eyeing Justin’s lunch bag.
“Lunch didn’t go so well?” Elly asked, smiling brightly. She’d teased me all morning about my date going bad, and she smiled victoriously now, as if she’d predicted its demise.
“You could say that again,” I stated, rustling through Justin’s lunch. I looked up at him regrettably and groaned. “You brought the tacos for lunch and already ate them?”
“Yep,” he said, trying to hold back a laugh. “I didn’t know I was supposed to bring a backup lunch for you if your date sucked.”
“Of course you were,” I sighed, jokingly.
Carter laughed. “So, what happened? Where’d he take you?”
“To a vegetarian bar!” I exclaimed, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “Tofu tastes like ass, by the way.”
The three of them cracked up as my stomach growled and a headache started pounding behind my temples. I was still starving, and my body wasn’t about to let me forget it.
“But you’re not even a vegetarian,” Elly said, her brows furrowed in confusion. “He had to have known that by looking at your profile. Why would he take you there?”
“Because he’s a conservationist who doesn’t eat meat,” I explained, rolling my eyes. “You know, if we weren’t supposed to eat animals, God shouldn’t have given us the skills to catch them! We need protein! I can’t not eat meat!”
“He probably saw how thin you are and assumed you were a herbivore,” Carter stated.
“It was awful,” I whined, slouching in my chair. “It wasn’t just the fact that he didn’t eat meat. It’s November, and he had on denim shorts and flip flops.”
Elly gasped. “Jean shorts?!”
“Yes, shorts that should only be worn by women in the summertime!” I stated, mentally revisiting his terrible appearance. “Then he had long hair that—”
“Hey,” Justin teased, nudging my arm. “I have long hair. What’s wrong with long hair?”
“Nothing’s wrong with yours.” I admired his low ponytail, and then reached out and ran my fingers through the soft strands. “You condition yours every day. This guy looked and smelled like he showered maybe once a week.”
“Gross,” Elly cringed. “That’s a little too conservative.”
Carter tightened his hold on Elly’s shoulders and laughed. “Hey, I’m all for the whole save water, shower together incentive.”
“So am I!” I proclaimed. “I’d just prefer to do it on a daily basis.”
Justin chuckled softly next to me. “So, are you going to see him again?”
I huffed in annoyan
ce. “No, I just told him I didn’t think we were a great match because I loved meat, and he actually agreed, which made me feel better for leaving early. He was nice; I will give him that. But this is New York City. You can get a vegetarian meal at any restaurant that still serves meat. Don’t just assume because I’m thin that I’m a salad eater. I have a great metabolism. I can’t help that.”
The three of them laughed in agreement and began picking up their trash as I headed back to my desk. My stomach ached from hunger, but there was little I could do about it now that I had to go back to work. If I hadn’t been so frustrated about the date, I would’ve grabbed something to eat on the way back to the clinic.
While Carter and Elly talked quietly, Justin leaned against my desk, smiling down at me. “You want me to order you something on my way back to campus and have it delivered?”
“That’s okay,” I said, shaking my head. This was my own fault for letting a computer choose my date. “Elly has some granola bars in her office. I’ll just steal a couple of those.”
“I’m sorry the date didn’t work out,” he offered in a sweet tone.
“Me too,” I said with a shrug. “You win some, you lose some.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he laughed, nodding. “His loss, though.”
I felt my cheeks heat under the gaze of his beautiful eyes watching me. “Thanks, Justin.”
“Anytime,” he said, tapping his fingers on my desk. “Maybe we can order in a bucket of fried chicken tonight, or a big, juicy burger. Whatever you want.”
“That sounds perfect,” I said, as I rested my chin in my hand and daydreamed about food.
“See you back at home later.”
“Later,” I said, while my belly wailed, Feed me!
***
As Carter and I walked back to work in silence, I thought about Tessa and her date. I’d thought she looked more dressed up this morning than usual, but hadn’t had the nerve to ask why. Ever since the night I freaked out on her, I’d been noticing things about her. The way she woke up at the same time every morning, even on the weekends, completely befuddled me. She looked like a girl who liked to sleep in, but she proved me wrong. Her peaches-and-cherries scent that wafted through our apartment became my new favorite smell. Whenever I took in a whiff of it, I found myself growing hard. Then there was her clothing. She dressed down when she hung out at home, opting for a tight pair of yoga pants that hugged every inch of her or a pair of old, ripped jeans that hung from her slim hips. She’d wear tshirts and sweaters she drowned in, hanging off one of her shoulders. I loved seeing her barefoot and bare-shouldered at home with me. But when she went out, she wore dresses and heels and jeans that looked like they were painted on. She was a knockout either way, but this morning, I’d noticed she spent more time on her appearance.
When we got to Elly’s clinic and heard Tessa had a lunch date, anxiety ached in my chest until she came back from her date and sat down beside me.
I was still analyzing that ache. She deserved to go on dates. She was a beautiful woman and I would bet most men found her attractive. Any guy would be lucky to have a second of her time. The thing was, even outside of the apartment we shared, I wanted to be that guy spending time with her.
Not some conservationist named Orion who only cared about himself and couldn’t properly feed her or even bother to look good for her.
“So,” Carter said, interrupting my thoughts. “How’s the new living arrangement going?”
“Good,” I said with a shrug.
He chuckled beside me. “Care to elaborate?”
I breathed in and quickly sighed. “I like living with her.”
“But?” he asked, cocking a brow at me.
“But nothing. She’s a good roommate. We get along. My OCD got the best of me last week and I freaked out on her, but we’re good now.”
He laughed loudly and patted me on the shoulder. “Glad to hear that. What made you upset?”
“She did my laundry on a Saturday,” I confessed, shaking my head, preparing myself for the shit he was about to deliver.
He stopped abruptly on the sidewalk and frowned. “But Saturdays aren’t laundry days.”
I rolled my eyes at his ridiculousness. “Exactly. I’m surprised she didn’t pack up her things and leave after my rant.”
He continued in step next to me. “We all know you’re a bit obsessive about things, Jameson. She knew what she was getting into when she moved in with you. And if there’s any one of us who can handle living with you, it’s Tessa.”
I frowned, confused. “Why do you say that?”
“Because she appreciates everything and hardly ever complains,” he replied. “What’d she say after your rant?”
“She just told me to tell her when something bothers me.”
“See, she understands your quirks,” he explained. “Not everyone would be so tolerant.”
“I know.” Spotting the bar Carter and I occasionally visited near campus, I nodded toward it. “I think I’ll order her a sandwich and fries and have it delivered. She said I didn’t need to, but she’s a tight-ass when it comes to eating out, and I could hear her stomach rumbling before we left. She shouldn’t go the rest of the afternoon without eating something.”
“I don’t even know why she’s trying the whole online dating thing,” Carter mused in an annoyed tone.
“I think Tessa just wants what you all have. With the exception of Paige, all of her girlfriends have found their guys.”
“Yeah, well she doesn’t need to go online to find him. I mean, you heard her, the guy she went to lunch with was a disaster.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. One in three couples meet online.”
“Okay, but would you try it?” he asked.
“God, no,” I scoffed, shaking my head. “I hate meeting new people in person. Meeting someone online sounds like a nightmare. The small talk alone would be exhausting.”
“I worry about her meeting a catfish. You know, someone pretending to be someone they’re not.”
“I know what catfishing is,” I said, furrowing my brows. “Tessa is smart though. She wouldn’t fall for that kind of crap.”
“I’d hope not,” he said with a shrug. “Anyway, you order her food. I’m going to head to my office. Going to the gym after work?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I said, opening the bar door.
I walked in and placed my to-go order, giving the waitress the clinic’s address. Grabbing a business card from my wallet, I pulled a pen from my shirt pocket and wrote Tessa a note.
***
Elly’s next patient wasn’t due for another thirty minutes, so when I heard the door open, I looked up and found a guy walking into the clinic carrying a bag of food. My mouth watered at the sight.
“I have a to-go order for Tessa Wilder,” he stated, placing the white sack on my desk.
“That’s me,” I said, reaching for my purse. “What do I owe you?”
He shook his head, smiling. “It’s been paid for already, tip and everything.”
“Of course it has,” I mumbled, nodding knowingly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy.”
The second he turned to leave, I rummaged through the sack and pulled out a Styrofoam box. Opening it up, I found a crispy chicken sandwich loaded with lettuce, tomato and mayonnaise, along with a pile of crinkle-cut fries with packets of ketchup layered on top of them. Reaching back into the bag, I pulled out the napkins, and that’s when I noticed the card at the bottom of the sack.
I grabbed it and smiled at Justin’s NYU business card. Turning it over, I saw his scribbles and stifled a giggle as I read: Here’s the meal you should’ve had for lunch. Preferably with a guy who conditions his hair. Enjoy - J
“What smells so good out here?” Elly asked, rounding the corner to the lobby. The smile on her face grew wider as she took in the open Styrofoam box. “Food?”
“Yes,” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I swear, you hav
e the nose of a dog.”
“Blame Baby Jennings,” she said, patting her belly. “So, he ordered you food?”
Glancing down at the note in my hand, I giggled softly and handed it over to her. “And he wrote me a note.”
She read the card and then stole a fry. “And here you thought he couldn’t possibly have feelings for you.”
“Hey, you had lunch already!” I reprimanded, closing the box to her sticky fingers. “And he doesn’t have feelings for me like that. He’s just being nice.”
“Sure. You keep telling yourself that,” she smirked, then stopped and leaned down to sniff the box. “Does that have mayo on it?”
Opening the box, I grabbed the sandwich and took a dramatic bite out of it, responding with a mouthful of food, “Yes, it does!”
She pantomimed a dry heave and shook her head. “I’ll be in my office.”
“That’s right,” I laughed, shooing her away. “Let me eat my lunch in peace!”
While I admire my note, I thought as I picked up the card and studied his handwriting.
My afternoon began with one of the worst dates of my life, but Justin had easily turned it around with food and a cute note.
So much for trying to get over him.
Chapter Six
As weeks went by, I learned more about Justin. Whenever he was home, he usually had the television on for background noise, even if he wasn’t in the living room actually watching it. Money wasn’t an issue for him, so leaving shit on when he wasn’t using it wasn’t a big deal. If it were me, I wouldn’t have had the television on unless I was actually watching it. But the minute he walked in the door, he grabbed the remote, clicked it on, and then proceeded to not watch it.
Out of habit, I assumed. I wasn’t even sure he knew he did it.
So, when I arrived home from a workout at Jones Jym and found the television off, I did a happy dance to the Selena Gomez song blaring from my headphones as I walked to my room.