(Blood and Bone, #2) Sin and Swoon(9)

He doth protest too much.

“Thank you.”

He shakes his head, really only making me feel worse because I know it was so bad he’s making it seem like nothing. But I know my truth: I’ve likely barfed from one end of his house to the other. And more than likely in his car. And instead of being pissed and getting me kicked out of school, he’s cooking bacon. If he were ten years younger I’d ask him to marry me. He grins, glancing at the bacon, and gives me a wry look from under his lashes. “A greasy breakfast will fix you. It’s a scientific fact based on years of studies.”

He makes me smile, even through the sickness in my pounding head. “You have read of these studies, I assume?”

“Yes, I enjoyed being part of the initial case study during my freshman year. We worked hard to prove something greasy cured all that ailed you.” He lifts a plate, adds a couple of pieces of bacon, and nods at the oven. “There are pancakes in the warming drawer.”

I take the plate, feeling exhausted and dizzy as I spin and bend to get the drawer. I pause, hating the sensation washing over me in heavy waves.

He bends next to me, making a warm jolt replace the nausea. He reaches and opens the oven drawer and grabs two pancakes and my plate. “Just go sit; I can make this for you.”

When I turn my head his face is close, too close, and yet just enough to get a waft of his deodorant. He reminds me of a guy I dated, but his name slips my lazy tongue. A shadow crosses his face, changing his look completely, but only for a second. He looks like the guy I dated once, the one who wore the deodorant I can smell.

I nod, lost for the entire second he reminds me of that other guy, but when I back up a bit he looks like himself again.

I shake my head, wondering if I am actually too hungover to survive, and push myself up. My legs shake on the walk to the table, as I plunk down into a seat.

He places the plate in front of me and turns back to the fridge. “You need the whole array, trust me. This science is based upon a careful balance.” He brings orange juice, coffee, cream, sugar, a stack of sausages, and a bowl of fruit salad. He winks at the fruit. “Stops the scurvy.”

I laugh again.

He places two pills in front of me, next to my orange juice glass. “For your head.”

“Thank you.” I don’t hesitate; I gulp them back, savoring the sweetness of the fresh-squeezed orange juice. “How is it we ended up with you?”

He sits across from me and starts serving himself. “Your friend Angie and I have been friends for a couple of years.”

I cock an eyebrow, taking a piece of bacon in my hand and chewing slowly. The flavor of the salty meat takes over everything. My world becomes entirely about the meal. The butter is soft and real, not margarine. The syrup is Canadian maple syrup, the kind you find at a souvenir shop. The bites of bacon and sausage become coated in maple syrup, making the meat that much tastier. All the while he laughs and tells me funny stories about being a freshman.

“Then this one time we thought we were so clever, we went across the Canadian border and bought fake identification. I was from Hawaii, a state no one had really seen an ID from, and my roommate, Glenn, was from Missouri. We tried them the first time at the campus bar in Portland. Of course we were figured out instantly. The bartender was from Missouri, apparently. He spotted the defects before he even held it.” He laughs to himself, chuckling like my father does, and shaking his head. “So both IDs ended up on the wall of shame, right behind the bar. They’re still there, in fact. I was on campus a couple of years ago, and they were the older of the bunch for sure, but there nonetheless.”

We both laugh, and I immediately notice I am feeling human again as Angie comes strolling in. She stretches and yawns. “Sorry about that. I ended up needing to lie back down a little. It was a late night.” She gives me a grin. “You look better.”

I beam at Derek, unable to fully contain the crush I am developing. “Science saved me.”

He laughs, but she gives me the strangest look, totally unaware of my meaning.

“I think we might need to find a ride back to school, Jane.”

I scowl. “Ang, you called me Jane last night too. Who is this Jane?”

She struggles with her thoughts. I can see the confusion on her face. “I have a friend from back home who is named Jane, and you are very similar. You remind me of her.”

Derek sits back, sipping his coffee. “I like the name Jane. I always think of Austen or Lady Jane.”

Angie rolls her eyes. “Before you go thinking too much of him, he teaches literature. He isn’t just some nancy who likes chick flicks.”