“Uh-huh.” I wasn’t really listening.
“And God, you’re going to a lot of work here. I had no idea you cared so much about my party.”
“It’s not for you,” Shane assured him around the food in his mouth as I pulled another sheet of appetizers from the oven. “It’s to impress the TA he wants to start banging.”
“Who?”
“Phil something.”
“Is it?” he asked Shane.
“Yeah, did ya know they had lunch together last week?”
“I was unaware of that fact,” Kurt replied, leaning against the counter, arms folded, ankles crossed, and his long, lean body looking fluid even at rest. He had a way of moving that made you think he was boneless. I had always admired that about him. It was as far as it went. “Lunch, huh. And that was it?”
Why was he looking at me like that? “What are you thinking?”
“Just that you might have missed something about Phillip Brooks.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged.
I straightened up, closing the oven door at the same time. “Do you know something you’re not telling me? Is he seeing another guy?”
“Nope. No guys that I know of.”
I squinted at him before I started moving again.
“So you’re going to what,” Kurt began, dark-gray gaze never leaving me as I bustled around the room, “seduce him with your heavenly cuisine?”
I let out a snort of laughter. “We both know it’s far from heavenly.”
“No, I’ve had restaurant food that’s not as good as yours.”
“Awww, thank you, Kurt,” I teased him.
He flipped me off.
“You want another margarita?” Shane asked me.
“Yeah.”
“How many have you had today?” Kurt wanted to know.
“I dunno, why?”
“You’re all flushed.”
“It’s hot in here, that’s why.”
“Yeah, but your pupils are huge… you’re drunk.”
“I am not. Was Ellie drunk?”
“Yeah, off her ass. That’s why I put her in my bed.”
“She didn’t go home? She had a dress she wanted to wear.”
“Then I guess she shouldn’t have drunk her lunch and then, like, five more after that. Tequila will sneak up on you.”
I snorted out a laugh.
“Yeah, you’re out of it,” he apprised me. “You should sit down before you fall down.”
“I’m fine.”
“Hello!”
My head snapped up, and I realized that Kurt had moved from his languid lean against the counter to stand in front of me. “What?”
“I can finish. Why don’t you go sit down?”
I groaned, moving around him. “Like you know shit about cooking. I’m fine. Just get the hell out of the kitchen.”
“Vin—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Kurt,” I muttered, lifting the lid off the pot of mole sauce simmering on the stove. “Go out and greet your guests and stop annoying me. Shane, where the hell is my drink?”
“God, don’t get your panties in a wad,” Shane grumbled, turning on the blender.
“Why don’t you do the mingling with me?” Kurt offered loudly, trying to be heard over the crushing of ice.
“Go away,” I told him, my voice raised as well. “You’re being a shitty host.”
“I’d rather stay here and annoy you,” he yelled.
I growled at him but then realized I wanted something, so I smiled big instead and was relieved when the blender was shut off. “Okay, so listen, when Phil shows up, tell him I need help in the kitchen and send him in here, okay?”
He nodded but didn’t move, his gray gaze instead remaining locked with mine.
“What?”
He shook his head after a minute and left.
“Holy shit.”
I looked over at Shane. He was pale. “Are you gonna pour that?” I asked, tipping my head at the pitcher he was holding.
He didn’t move.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Uhm.” He cleared his throat, hand raking through his thick brown hair. “Vin?”
“I was kidding before.” I laughed at him. “You can eat something. I have the camote warming in the oven, you want some of that?”
“Look at me a second.”
I had turned away to pull the homemade salsa out of the refrigerator, but I returned my eyes to his.
“How long has Kurt been, ya know, lookin’ at you like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like he wants to bend you over the counter.”
I let out a derisive snort. “I think you have me confused with Ellie.”
“Actually, no, I don’t. I’ve never seen him look at her like that.”
“Okay,” I said with a snort. “Clearly you’ve reached your limit, so that’s it for you, but I still want mine,” I finished, holding out my hand for the margarita. “Put salt on the rim of my glass first.”
He shook his head and did what I told him. I liked people who followed directions.
When more guests started arriving, they came in to say hello and swipe a bite of food. Once everything was ready, I started using them as servers, sending out a new dish with each person. After a while, Kurt poked his head into the kitchen.
“Are you going to come out here at all?”
“I’m cooking,” I reminded him.
“Yes, I know,” he said in that way he had that made me feel stupid. “But perhaps you might want to slow it down and actually enjoy my party.”