Page 67

When I returned with my bag filled with face wash, exfoliant, toner, avocado oil, mask, and moisturizer, the problem was still the same. There was no place to put all my crap. Instead of lining it up on the counter, I kept the bag zipped and decided I could pull out my things one at a time and then return them to the bag. It would be annoying, but at least it would look like I only had the one bag.
And then there was the problem of where to store my feminine products. This was a conundrum indeed. Men were weird about these things. Even Andrew, who knew the most intimate details of my life, got squeamish if he saw a tampon in my purse. There was no good place to store them by the toilet, so I shoved them under the sink, hoping Dash didn’t find them.
“Everything alright?”
I screamed, spinning around and whacking my hand on the cabinet in my haste to hide my tampons. I pulled my hand against my chest, trying not to cry. It didn’t hurt that much, but his sudden appearance scared me, making me feel like I’d done something wrong.
He was beside me in a moment, taking my hand and massaging the bones to make sure nothing was broken. “Good?”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat as I watched him gazing at my hand intently. A shiver worked down my spine at his touch, but I refused to let him feel the way I reacted to him. Fawning all over him would only make the whole situation more uncomfortable.
“What were you doing?”
“Uh…n-nothing,” I stuttered. “Just…putting stuff away.”
“Under the sink?”
“You know, girl stuff.”
He nodded, but I wasn’t sure he understood. His expression didn’t even change. “Is there anything else you need?”
“I think I have everything.”
“Well, we can pick up whatever else over the next few days. Make a list.”
I definitely needed some new school clothes. The stuff in my dresser was mostly fine, but my closet suffered from water damage, ruining my clothes and some of my favorite shoes. While I wasn’t a fashionista by any means, I had to look presentable at school. Jeans and t-shirts wouldn’t cut it. But that could wait a little longer.
“We should go downstairs and eat. Brock keeps asking what the delicious smell is. If we don’t get down there, he’s going to eat everything before we have a chance to taste it.”
“There’s nothing special about it,” I said, trying to shift the talk away from my cooking. I wasn’t big on praise. For some reason, it always made me uncomfortable when someone complimented me.
“I think we’ll make that decision,” he grinned, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me out of the bathroom. “So, any chance you’ll take dinner requests?”
“I think you’ll want to taste my cooking before you start making requests. What if you don’t like it?”
He shrugged. “At least there’ll still be food on the table.”
Surprisingly, Brock was already at the counter, ladling out the soup into bowls when we got to the kitchen. I thought maybe we’d sit at the table, but instead, Dash and Brock grabbed their bowls, then headed into the living room. Unsure of what to do, I followed. I had no idea what they were watching, but as I took a seat on the floor against the wall, I was just glad to have the sound of the TV drown out my thoughts.
“Hey, douchebag,” Brock said, tossing his spoon at Dash.
“Ow!” Dash flinched, snatching the spoon as it fell to his lap after hitting him in the face. “That fucking hurt. What was that for?”
“You took her fucking seat. She’s a guest.”
“Oh, no!” I cut in, wanting to stop this right now. “I’m perfectly fine down here.”
“That’s fucking ridiculous,” Brock snapped. “Be a gentleman.”
“Really, you don’t have to?—”
“He’s right,” Dash said, getting up. “You should sit down.”
“I really don’t mind sitting on the floor. I’m smaller than you.”
He looked at me like he was actually offended by that. “Sorry, but the day I let a lady sit on the floor because she’s smaller than me is the day I turn in my man card.”
I couldn’t really argue with that, especially when he brought his manhood into the equation. Still, I felt ridiculous sitting in this chair while he folded his large frame onto the ground to eat his soup. Besides, the chair was way too big for me. It was like a giant cushion and I sank into it, feeling like it was swallowing me whole.