“Oh Lord. Isn’t he afraid what they’ll say when they see the bill?”
“Nah. His parents spoil him. I doubt they’ll say anything. His mom’s not quite ready to cut the cord, if you know what I mean.”
“Is he a freshman?” I assumed he must be by the way Bentley was describing him.
Bentley laughed at my question as he dumped the contents of the box into a pot instead of a mixing bowl. “Hell no. He’s a junior like me. He turned twenty-one a couple months ago. She just treats him like he’s still a baby. He doesn’t care, though. He likes being coddled. The asshole is twenty-one and has never held down a job.” His words were harsh, but his tone was affectionate.
“I’m not much better. I worked at an ice cream stand not far from my house the summer I was seventeen, but the hours were a bit of a joke.”
“Hey, you get an A for effort,” he said, cracking some eggs and depositing the contents into the pot.
“You know you’ll need a different pan to cook them in, right?” I wasn’t the best baker, but watching Dad, who was the cook in our house, I’d picked up a few things. I definitely knew a stockpot was not the best choice to bake brownies.
“Are you sure?” He winked at me. “Kidding.” He pulled a baking pan from the drawer at the bottom of the stove. “We bought this when we got the brownies. We just forgot a mixing bowl. This worked, though.”
After a moment of vigorous stirring, he handed me the spoon to lick, which I accepted happily. Brownie mix was even better than cookie dough. Mom always thought it was gross that Dad and I licked the bowl after making brownies or cookies, but we considered it a perk.
I flushed slightly, finding Bentley watching me. I licked my lips, trying to erase the last traces of the brownie mix. His eyes flickered and he raised his hand toward me. My body immediately tensed in anticipation.
He moved slowly, gently swiping his thumb over the corner of my mouth. “You missed a little,” he said before licking his thumb clean. Instant heat coursed through my body with a desire like I’d never felt. I hadn’t realized it was possible. It definitely had never happened with Zach.
• • •
fall 2012
“Dude, I counted like twelve scouts in the stands. You’re a star, brother,” Dan said, clapping Zach on the back when he left the locker room with his hair still wet from the shower.
Zach’s face went slack at Dan’s words. “You’re yanking my chain, right? Dad said two at the most would be showing up for this game.”
“I’m serious, brother. You’re a hot commodity.” Dan held out his closed fist so they could bump.
I was surprised it took Zach a moment to respond, and when he did, it was halfhearted at best. “What’s wrong?” I asked, sidling up to him and dragging Tracey, who seemed reluctant to follow, behind me.
He answered, running a hand through his wet locks. “Nothing. I just wish I would have played better.”
“Played better? You threw three touchdowns. It would have been four if Butterfinger Bradley wouldn’t have dropped that last pass.”
“Yeah, but I got sacked twice and threw an interception before halftime.”
“Which translated to nothing.”
Zach shrugged, and I could still see he was bothered by it. “You played great, Zach.” I gave him a quick peck on the lips. He smiled at me, but I noticed it didn’t quite make it to his eyes. I wasn’t sure what to say to make him feel better, and in the end it was Tracey who seemed to center him with her comment.
“You only care about FSU anyway, and they already want you, right?” she reasoned. “Who cares about any of the rest?”
“She’s right, my friend,” Dan added. “You were destined for FSU since you were a baby crapping in your diaper.”
“Nice, Dan,” Kat laughed, giving him a swat. He retaliated by pulling her into his arms and giving her a searing kiss. I looked away. Lately it seemed intrusive to watch them when they were affectionate with each other. Zach and I had shared our fair amount of kisses over the years, but even though they were pleasant and familiar, they were never as heated as what Dan and Kat shared.
Zach tugged my hand and held me back as the others headed toward his Suburban.
“You okay?” I asked as he turned me to face him. He answered by crushing his lips to mine. Caught unprepared, I gasped, which he responded to by shoving his tongue in my mouth. He backed me against the wall and pressed his body completely against mine. The contact was not new for us, but it had been a year since we’d gone all the way. It wasn’t quite what I had been expecting and since then had kept things above the waist. If Zach wanted more, he’d never indicated it until now.
I maneuvered my hands up to his chest, pushing him back. “Zach, someone might see us.” I felt inadequate when he kissed me like this. Where was the heat I always heard about?
Zach’s eyes met mine briefly. They were filled with anguish that totally did not match his personality. “You’re right,” he agreed, shouldering his gym bag. He headed toward the parking lot while I watched from the shadows of the breezeway. I told myself his kiss had something to do with his feelings about the game, but deep down I suspected it meant something more. My insecurity that this was my fault always lingered. He would never utter the words, but I couldn’t help wondering if he was sorry we stayed together. If I really cared about him, I would let him go. Let him find someone who could offer him what I was lacking. Selfishly, I pushed the thoughts away. It wasn’t like he’d ever asked for an out. This would be our last year together anyway. Soon we’d be at different universities, and he could explore other relationships. Logically it made sense.
nine