So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(31)
“If you’re finished staring at me, can you bring me the drill?” He looks down at me through the clear glass.
My cheeks heat at having been caught daydreaming.
“It’s on top of that red toolbox,” he says.
I ignore the embarrassment and hand him the drill.
“Thanks.” He winks, and my stomach squishes. “You know, when I get this thing installed, we can play some one-on-one like we used to when we were kids.”
“Yeah, sure. You only want to play me because you know I suck.”
He laughs as he places a screw into one of the holes he pre-drilled in the siding over the garage door. “If you haven’t improved, then you do suck. But I thought it’d be fun. Something to do besides watch T.V.”
“I’ll do my best, but I haven’t held a basketball since I last played with you. That was when we were—what—maybe thirteen?”
“Then it’s high time we get you on the court—the court being our driveway.”
He makes quick work of installing the backboard. As he takes the first step to come down the ladder, a high-pitched alarm sounds.
I rush into the house. “Oh, shit.”
Acrid smoke fills the kitchen.
I dart to the cooktop, yanking the pot from the red-hot burner. The water has completely boiled away.
“What the hell?” Tyson waves a towel, trying to clear the air around the smoke detector.
When the ear-piercing sound ceases, I hold out the macaroni dish for him to see. “I was going to cook.”
“Instead, you decided to burn the house down?”
My eyebrows shoot up at his tone. “I was making dinner when I heard the noise in the garage. And I—I was watching you. Then you asked for the drill, and…I forgot about it, okay? I’m sorry.”
Tyson’s grimace softens. He cocks his head, quirking one eyebrow. “Looking at me makes you forget things?”
I let out a huff. “You’re so full of yourself.”
His smile should be immortalized.
He bumps me with his elbow, looking into the scorched dish. “The noodles at the top look all right.”
I wrinkle my nose. “It smells pretty bad.”
Tyson shrugs. “But you made it for me.”
“I did no such thing.” I shake my head.
“Yes, you did.” He grabs a spoon from the drawer and a colander from the cupboard. “C’mon, it’ll be all right.”
I hold the strainer as he scrapes the not-so-charred macaroni and peas into it, leaving behind the blackened bits that have adhered to the bottom of the pan. After they’re rinsed, I dump them into a clean mixing bowl.
“If it’s bad, you don’t have to eat it.” I add the milk, cheese powder, and butter, stirring it all together.
Ty finishes opening the can of chicken. “I’m sorry that I yelled at you. My last house burned down, did I tell you that?”
“You mentioned it the other day. You didn’t elaborate, though, and I didn’t want to pry.”
He dumps the chicken into my mixing bowl. “I wasn’t home, and no one was hurt. It was just a house with stuff. Most things are easily replaced. But getting everything worked out with the insurance company—that was a total pain in the ass. That’s why I was staying with Jake for a while.”
“I’m really sorry that happened. And I promise, I’ll be more careful in the kitchen.” I set the bowl next to the sink and take a couple of plates from the dishwasher.
Ty plops some Cheesy Chicken Mac into each of our dishes and hands me a fork. “Bon appetit.”
I lean against the counter in front of the sink, and he pushes himself up to sit on the island across from me. Our gazes meet, and we simultaneously take our first bite.
I manage to chew twice, but—
No.
Blech.
Just no.
I whip around and spit the offensive food into the sink. The burnt taste overrides any other flavor that might be in there.
I rinse the disgusting concoction into the disposal, wiping my mouth with my wrist as I turn to Tyson.
He chokes down another bite. His brow is wrinkled and his mouth turned down at the corners as he chews.
I reach for his plate. “It’s horrible. Don’t eat that.”
He holds his dish up so I can’t take it. “No. You made it for me. I’m going to eat it.”
I prop my hands on my hips and shake my head at his stupidity. “I told you, I did no such thing.”
He takes another bite, his nose wrinkling. “It’s really not that bad.”
I sigh. “It’s toxic waste. Chuck it and let’s go grab some burgers.”
“But, you made it for me—”
“I didn’t. I swear. I gave up on you coming home, so I was making something for myself.”