Birthday Girl

It’s been missing for days, in fact, and I furrow my brow, looking around. “Where the fuck is my loofah?”

Jordan

“You made the taco dip, right?”

I nod, scrolling through my Instagram in the passenger seat. “Yeah.”

“And the bacon-wrapped jalapeño poppers?” Pike asks.

“Yes,” I hiss. “You only asked me like ten times.”

He’s quiet for a moment, driving through a neighborhood not far from ours.

I mean, his.

Ours.

“I just like them, is all,” he says.

A lazy smile tugs at my lips, and I feel a hint of pride. I love that he’s not just nice about things. He actually truly likes what I contribute. Whether it’s a meal or a snack I’ll leave on the counter for him after work or the new rock pad I made for the backyard yesterday, which he loved.

I’d had the idea after mudding and noticing how the hosing off made more mud, so I decided it would be fun to put a box of smooth stones by the hose, so now we can stand on that to hose off and keep our feet clean at the same time. It also drains the water exceptionally well, and it’ll be handy. When we go mudding again.

It’s been a week since that night and six days since we had Kyle’s kids over swimming, and I’ve tried to morph what happened between us into just some freak accident about me being on the rebound and vulnerable for attention or something, but it hasn’t stopped what I’ve started to feel for him from growing. It’s a crush. We’re alone together too much, and it’s understandable we’d form a bond.

Hopefully, this block party pot luck, and getting out of the house and around other people, will put things in perspective again.

“And it’s not turkey bacon, right?” he suddenly blurts out.

Huh?

“On the poppers?” he clarifies, and I can see him looking at me out of the corner of my eyes.

Jesus, is he still thinking about the food?

“And you didn’t sneak in anything weird like wheat germ or use cauliflower instead of actual potatoes in the potato salad like some of those low carb bullshit diets call for, right?” he goes on.

I burst into laughter, letting

my head fall back, my phone drop in my lap, and my eyes close. Oh, my God.

“Jordan, I’m serious,” he scolds. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

My body convulses as I shake my head at him and smile. He’s so weird.

And I’m amused he’s craving the stuff I made so vehemently.

I finish chuckling quietly and bury my nose in my phone again. “Everything is fatty and savory and delicious,” I tell him. “Don’t worry. I’m letting you have a cheat day today. You can clog your arteries until the cows come home.”

I feel him nod. “Good.” There’s a brief pause and then he speaks up again. “If you feel uncomfortable, though, let me know. I can take you home.”

“I’ll be fine,” I reply. “I talk to people all the time at work. I know how to make conversation.”

Dutch and his wife invited Pike, Cole, and me, but Cole said he had to work an extra shift today and couldn’t make it.

But as I’m scrolling my feed, I happen upon a shot of Patrick’s Last Ditch, the super convenience store just outside of town, and I recognize Cole’s car at the pump. It’s his post.

headin outta town for the dayyyyy! whoop!