The time flew by as soon as people started arriving, and Hut set about starting the grill up. The house was a hub of activity as I cut chicken breast and pushed them onto skewers with some vegetables.
“Looks like you’re having fun there, kid.”
I rolled my eyes at the name and twirled around to face Brody. His jaw was covered in light stubble, showcasing his infectious grin. “So much fun that I can’t even contain myself.” I held up the skewers in front of me. “I’d ask you to help, but I know you’d rather go drink beer with the guys.”
He tilted his head, his dark eyes watching me the same way they did when we were at the pancake house over a week ago. I hadn’t seen him since then, at least not enough to talk to. He’d been in the house when I left yesterday morning, but I was running late and didn’t have time to say hi. Plus, I didn’t want Hut to think we were talking behind his back. He was paranoid, and it would only set off his alarms. That was the last thing I needed.
“I can help,” Brody announced, pulling his leather jacket off and placing it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs.
“Oh, no.” I chuckled, nerves flowing through me at being so close to him again. “I was just joking.”
Brody shrugged, causing his muscles to dance from the move, and dammit, I was mesmerized by it. How the hell did he walk around looking like that and not know it? Or maybe he did know it and used it to his advantage. Maybe I was becoming one of those girls.
“Where do you want me?” he asked, moving to stand next to me. It was a loaded question, one that I wasn’t sure I could answer. “You cut, and I’ll skewer?”
All I could do was nod and pick the knife back up. I was back in seventh grade when my crush said hi to me for the first time in the hallway. My voice had disappeared, and my movements were jerky, something that really wasn’t good when handling a sharp object.
Brody washed his hands, and then he placed two vegetables on the skewer followed by a piece of marinated chicken. “So how’s classes?”
I halted in my movements, the knife halfway through a chicken breast. “Classes? How do you know I go to class?”
“Because you told me.”
I tilted my head to make eye contact and blew out a breath. “Right. Sorry.” I was on edge and needed to calm the hell down. “Classes are good.” I smiled wide and placed some cut-up pieces of chicken on the edge of the board. “I spoke to an advisor on Friday about what classes I needed to take to become a teacher.”
“Yeah?” His hand reached over to my board, and I couldn’t look away from his long fingers. His nails were cut short, his knuckles scarred.
“Yeah.” I shuffled on the spot and cut the last pieces of chicken. “I started tutoring recently and…” I bit down on my bottom lip and flicked my gaze up to him. His attention was fully focused on me. My skin buzzed, liking the way he stared. “I realized that’s what I want to do. I want to help kids learn and be there when they struggle. I want to help them work it out on their ow
n, and have a positive impact in their lives.”
He blinked several times. “Well, shit, Lola, that’s as good a reason as any.”
My shoulders slumped, and my face broke out into a smile. A smile that only seemed to break free when it was meant for Brody.
“I thought so too.” I picked up my board and knife and moved over to the sink. “I just want to be more than”—I waved my hand in the air, signaling the house—“this.” I turned the tap on, waiting for the warm water to replace the cold. “I want to be more than Hut’s stepsister. I want to be Lola Martin. Only Lola Martin.”
“I get it,” Brody said, his voice rougher than usual. “You want to create your own path. Ain’t nothin' wrong with that, darlin'.”
Butterflies swarmed in my stomach at his words, and I glanced up at him, finding his gaze glued to me. There was something behind his dark-brown eyes that I couldn’t place, but I was witnessing it more and more. Maybe I was imagining it, but my gut told me I wasn’t. Something was fizzling between us, a spark wanting to come alight.
“Brody…” I switched the tap off and turned to face him fully, those butterflies becoming even stronger now. “I—”
“Lola?” Hut shouted, his footsteps stomping into the kitchen. “We ready to start grilling yet, or what?”
The butterflies disappeared, seeking refuge from the one person they hated the most. “Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Burgers are on the table.”
“Cool.” Hut stepped past us, picked up the burgers, and walked across the kitchen. “Come on, Brode, I have some peeps I wanna introduce you to.”
When he was back outside, I raised a brow. “Brode?”
“I know.” Brody chuckled and switched the tap back on to wash his hands. “I hate it.”
“Yeah…” I leaned my hip against the counter. “Makes you sound like a soda brand or something.”
Brody snorted and then snapped his head to face me. “You didn’t just hear that.”
“Oh, but I did.” I grinned and stepped back. “Brode the snorter has quite a ring to it.”