“It wasn’t that bad, really, but the day just dragged by. How was yours?”
I shrug because it was just another day. Nothing special.
“This is good, thank you.”
“Of course it’s good.” I grin at her. “I made it.”
Presley throws her head back, laughing. “It’s good because it’s your mom’s recipe.”
“Yeah, but the person fixing it has a lot to do with it too.”
She just shakes her head at me and we’re quiet for a few minutes. “Have I driven you crazy yet?” Presley looks up at me from underneath her lashes as she eats. “The clothes on the bathroom floor, the bed, the counter?” She looks a little nervous, but I smile at her.
“Maybe a little.” I drop my spoon in the bowl and lean towards her. “But if you’re going to be a little crazy, I might as well jump on the crazy train too. Right?”
“Probably wouldn’t be a good thing if we were both crazy,” she softly laughs.
“True, but don’t worry about, Presley.”
She nods and then asks, “What do you want to do tonight?”
I tell her that McCarthy texted me earlier about working out tonight, but I was thinking about skipping it. Our routine so far is being gone during the day, eating supper together, and then I work out with McCarthy afterwards.
“Why don’t you want to go? You need to stay in shape, Levi.”
“Are you saying that because of hockey or because of God Levi?” I give her my cocky grin, and she laughs, but refrains from answering. “Fine. Don’t answer. I figured we’d do something instead.”
Presley eyes me carefully. “Like what?”
“Like go out, Smarty. I want to take you out and do something fun.”
Smarty grins. “Where are we going?”
“Bowling. It’s time for our rematch, so I can show you that I can beat your ass.”
Presley laughs and I know that I’ll never get tired of hear that sound. “Should we invite Trevor and Marley?”
“If you want.”
We finish up eating, put up the leftovers, and leave our dishes in the sink. Smarty decides that she wants to drive and I tease her the whole way there about the state of her car. She has all of three things in her backseat. McCarthy and Marley are waiting for us when we arrive.
I love watching Presley around her brother and best friend. She’s obviously in her comfort zone, laughing and having fun. She’s relaxed without the fierceness and strive of being independent hanging around her. Smarty is sitting beside me as McCarthy bowls. I lean in and whisper into her ear.
“I love you, Presley McCarthy.”
Those light brown eyes come to look at me, a faint smile on her lips. “I love you too. Are you trying to butter me up because you’re losing?” That eyebrow quirks up, waiting for my answer.
I chuckle and glance at the score. I’m losing to Presley by a few points.
“This is how you beat someone’s ass?” she adds.
“It’s all a part of my plan, Smarty.”
She laughs and then leaves me behind for her turn. My girl is freaking competitive and gloats about those few points that keep her ahead of me. Truthfully, I’m enjoying the show, so I don’t try as hard. And poor Marley has no skill whatsoever. The night ends with McCarthy winning.
~
Over the next few weeks, I learn a couple things. I have to say that living with Presley is both tons of fun, but at the same time, it’s something new and sometimes challenging. Having never lived with a girl like this before, I wasn’t prepared for some things. I never knew how long Presley took to get ready. I’ve told her on countless occasions to just throw her hair up, and she’ll still be just as hot. Every time, she rolls her eyes at me and proceeds to take forever to get ready. Sharing a bathroom with her is not fun, but we are starting to get in a routine of sorts.