I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a migraine digging its way from my eyelids to my temples. Definitely not the way I had planned to spend my Saturday morning. “I thought I asked you to have someone on Evan?”
“And I did! We can’t monitor his every move, Justice. I actually have other clients, you know.”
“I don’t give a damn about your other clients, Heidi. Take care of this.” Knocking resonates from the front door, and I jump to my feet, anxious and irritated. “Look, fix this shit. The last thing Ally needs is bullshit addiction rumors. Do whatever you need to do.” End.
I stalk to the front door, my patience diminishing with each step. Too preoccupied, I yank it open without bothering to look out the peephole.
Ally’s gaze sweeps my frame, eyes wide with curious delight, and those red locks illuminated by the bright morning sun. She’s dressed in jeans, a green silk camisole and a purple cardigan, more casual than I’ve ever seen her. However, I’m less than decent in soft flannel pajama pants…and nothing else.
“Well, good morning,” she smiles slyly, sliding through the door, her shoulder grazing mine. She’s holding a brown paper sack and goes straight to the kitchen to set it down. She’s comfortable here. She’s comfortable with me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, quickly closing the door, but not before checking to make sure no one followed her here.
“Yeesh, you’re grumpy in the morning. For your information, I wanted to surprise you with something totally sweet and awesome, but I can leave if you want.” She flips her hair dramatically and makes her way back to the door. I step into her path before she can even get close.
“Sorry, uh, I just wasn’t expecting you,” I say, gazing down at her, resisting the urge to take my finger and free her bottom lip from its cute, little pout. “And I had a rough morning. Please stay. I could use something totally sweet and awesome.” I flash her a grin, just to soften her up. A face that gentle, that delicate, should never frown.
“Are you mocking me, Drake?” she smirks.
“Maybe. Depends on what you’ve got in that bag.”
Ally smiles, and warmth sweeps over me. Not the heat I feel when I imagine her tight, little body under mine. But real, palpable, comforting warmth. Her smile is the sun—bright and infectious. I’d rather go blind from staring than be without it.
She turns back around and sets the bag on the counter. “Well, it’s your lucky day, because honestly, this is as much of a treat for me as it will be for you.” She begins to unpack her paper sack, splaying things on the marble countertop. “First—breakfast! Your friend Riku—who is a total, freakin’ hottie, by the way—hooked me up with my favorite brunch food ever, fried chicken and waffles!” She uncovers a large Tupperware and the mouthwatering scents of fried batter, spices and syrup fill the room. My stomach rumbles in approval.
“You eat chicken and waffles?” I ask, stepping forward to get a better look at the piping hot, deep-fried fare.
“Hell yes!” she exclaims proudly. “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve gone to Melba’s in Harlem. You ever been?”
“Can’t say I have.”
She slaps my bare chest lightly and damn near squeals. “You have to let me take you! It’s da bomb!”
“And apparently you have to go back in time to 1996 to eat there,” I jibe, causing her to give me another playful slap.
She laughs, and I join her out of reflex and necessity. Ally means well, but she could never know what she’s doing to me. Making plans after this, as if I could actually have a place in her life outside these four walls? As if she and I could continue this…thing?
I’m not sure whether I should be pissed at her for giving me false hope or be contented by the fact that she wants me in her life. But when I look at her, so happy—happy with me—I can’t feel anything but grateful for the charade, even though it will kill me when the curtain closes.
Ally raises the dish until it’s eye level, taunting me with the sweet, spicy aromas. “Shut up! Or you don’t get any of this.”
“Riku made that?”
“Yup. He was actually pretty surprised at my request. Guess the other ladies are too concerned with gaining an ounce to enjoy some real food,” she shrugs. “Geez, I see why you keep him locked up in the kitchen. He’d totally get molested by all these horny housewives!”
I give her a half-grin before turning toward the cabinets in an attempt to hide my flare of jealousy. I have no business feeling any type of possessiveness over Ally. She isn’t mine. But fuck it, I never copped to being rational.