Talk about a slippery slope. I’ve apparently fallen for them without meaning to, and getting together with them again will only make it worse.
And somehow while missing them, I’ve conveniently been forgetting about how Shane and Marcos, and to a lesser extent, Khalil, tried to tell me what to do. Maybe I blew up about it a little too hard, but that issue hasn’t changed.
But then I return to their table, drinks in hand, and see how handsome they are, and how much I miss their faces, and I see their arms and remember how good it felt to be in them.
I need to dunk my head in the ice bin.
“Everything still going okay with you?” Shane asks.
Another question I can’t possibly answer honestly, though he’s probably just worried that my mother might be harassing me again. “Everything’s fine,” I say. “What’s new with all of you?”
“The expansion’s going well,” Devin says. “Maybe Barrett’s already told you, but we’re on track to finish it in three weeks.”
“That’s great,” I say, though it will mean losing one of the things that connects me to them. I’m sure they have other work lined up after this, most likely not on the island.
“We actually came in to see if you’d like to come over after work tonight,” Khalil says.
“Or some other night, if tonight doesn’t work,” Shane adds, making me wonder who this new easygoing man is.
I’m so torn, I may as well be in two pieces, with one half of me ready to toss my apron on the table and run out to their truck right now. The half of me that’s still thinking logically is setting off alarm bells about how dangerous spending the night with them would be — how my heart is only going to get more involved, and how my body is only going to grow more addicted to their touch.
Cold turkey is absolutely the right approach, and I somehow manage to muster enough resolve to say, “I don’t think I should.”
I expect them to argue — or at least, I expect Shane to argue — but none of them do. They look disappointed, but they don’t necessarily seem surprised.
“Okay,” Khalil says, “but the invitation still stands, in case you change your mind.”
“Okay.” I take a step back from the table to try to break their pull on me. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
It will probably be all I think about.
53
Filled with memories
Deciding that I need to keep myself busy in an effort to stop thinking about the men, I decide to make lasagna for Jade and Rachel on my next night off. Jade’s surprised when I tell her that I’m cooking, since I did so very little of it when we lived together.
I don’t know why I decided to make something Devin and Marcos taught me to make. I’m filled with memories as I prepare the ingredients, and at one point, I’m almost tempted to call them when I have a question about assembly.
I must get something wrong, because it doesn’t look the same as theirs; I should’ve taken notes.
Rachel helps me make a salad, and when the lasagna’s out of the oven, I heat a loaf of garlic bread. I’m just about to take the bread out of the oven when there’s a knock on our door.
“Can you get that?” I call to Rachel.
My sister looks through the peephole, then throws open the door. “Hi — what’s the matter?”
Her abrupt change of tone alerts me, and I look over to find Jade in our entryway, tears streaming down her face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, rushing over.
“I broke up with Justin,” she says, crying more than actually speaking.
My arms go around her and I rub her back. I always thought I’d be thrilled if the two of them broke up, but it hurts my heart to see Jade so upset.
Rachel closes the door and I steer Jade over to the couch. “What happened?”
I retrieve a box of tissues from the bathroom and set it next to Jade, pulling one out for her. After wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, she says, “He threw away my clothes!”
“What?” Rachel perches behind me on the arm of the couch and both of us stare at Jade in disbelief.
“I have more clothes than him, and when I couldn’t fit everything on my side of the closet, I hung a few dresses on his side, next to his suit jackets. There was plenty of space there. It was about a week ago I did this, and tonight, when I went looking for my pink sundress, it was gone.”
As she tells us her story, her tone changes from sadness to irritation, and rightfully so.
“I went to ask him if he knew where they were — he was in the den playing video games, as he usually is — and he told me he got rid of them. They didn’t belong on his side of the closet, so he threw them away.”