Pretty Thing (Naughty Things 1)

“I miss this town,” I say. Because we’re both being too quiet. Then add, “I’m going to make it my mission to come home as often as possible.”

I hesitantly look over at Aiden from the corner of my eye, trying to get a glimpse of his response, but he appears deep in thought.

Then we’re at the sandwich shop and Aiden opens the door for me, waving me forward. When did he get these manners? I feel like we’re strangers these days. My impression of him is still one left over from us being kids. When he used to tease me and drive me crazy. When he was all boyish charm and playful antics.

And now he’s so much more than that. He’s got style, for one thing. He looked fantastic in that suit last week and today, this kinda business-casual style—it’s flattering on him. Especially when his regular clothes are usually just old jeans and t-shirts.

We enter the shop, order our sandwiches—he gets a Philly steak and I get a turkey on wheat (some things never change)—and then take our number and find a table in the back.

“So what’s going on in your world, Kali? You know what my life is like. Pretty much the same as always. But what do you do out there in the world?”

“Cook,” I say. “I’m at a fancy steak and pasta place now.”

“Do you like it?”

I shrug. “I guess. It pays what I need. I’m head chef there, so that’s nice. But is this what I envisioned when I went to chef’s school? No. I wanted to bake.”

“So why don’t you bake?”

I sigh. “There’s corporate baking—like bread companies and stuff like that—and then there’s mom-and-pop bakeries. Or trendy startups. Corporate baking isn’t really baking in my eyes. So that would kill my soul. And I can’t make a living at a mom-and-pop bakery.”

“So start your own trendy place,” he says.

“I tried,” I say. “It didn’t really get off the ground.”

“Why not?” he asks, reaching across the table to take both my hands in his.

Our eyes meet. His are mesmerizing. Light blue-green that contrast with his darker hair and just… draw you in. Make you want to get lost in them.

He starts to let go of my hands, but I squeeze him back. Letting him know I like it. “I dunno,” I say, answering his last question. “Bad planning? Bad timing? It’s expensive to rent space in the city. You have to be somewhere where there’s traffic and those places come with high price tags. So…” I shrug. “Not enough capital, I guess.”

“Ah,” he says. “This town doesn’t have a bakery. We could use one if you ask me.”

“Are you trying to get me to move back home?” I ask, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face.

“Maybe,” he says. “It’s not the worst place in the world to live.”

“No, it’s not. I love this town. We had a great childhood here, right?”

He nods. “Yeah.” Then frowns. “We really did.” Then he lets go of my hands and leans back in his chair. “I don’t know what life looks like without Kyle, Kali. I can’t even begin to picture it. I feel… alone, ya know?”

I nod my head as my eyes begin to water. “I know. But you’re not alone, you have me.”

He stares at me for a few moments. “Not really though. You’re two hours away. We never see each other. And even if we did try to make this work—if you ever wanted, that is—two hours is close and far at the same time.”

I nod and realize my throat is tightening up like I want to cry. “I do,” I say. “Two stupid hours is a lifetime when you’re working all the time and that traffic seems insurmountable when all you want to do is go home and sleep.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but the counter person calls out our number and he just sighs instead. Then gets up, grabs our sandwich baskets and some napkins, and returns to the table, passing me my food.

We eat in silence for a little bit. Mostly people watching as locals come in in work clothes to grab a bite. And by the time we’re done, it’s almost time to walk over to his father’s office for the reading of the will.

Aiden cleans up our table, throws everything in the trash, and then takes my hand.

I swing them a little. Like we’re kids again. And then I have an overwhelming desire to be that kid again. Run around the woods with him and Kyle and just be wild. Steal strawberries out of people’s gardens and climb apple trees.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, stopping in front of his father’s little house on Main Street that acts as an office. He can’t look me in the eyes for a moment, but then he draws in a breath and manages. “I’ve really, really missed you. And I have this whole time. It’s not Kyle’s death that’s making me miss you, Kal. It’s just… that’s just how I feel.”