“Don’t worry,” I said, motioning to everything. “I’ll clean all this up.”
It still seemed to take her a minute to soak in what I was actually doing, though. Her gaze finally slid back to me. “You’re cooking.”
“I...yeah.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, feeling majorly awkward. “It’s kind of my Saturday morning thing. I...is this okay? I can stop if you want.”
Her eyes grew wide. She obviously wasn’t used to being asked for permission.
“No, it’s fine,” she said. Her gaze drifted over the griddle again before moving back to me. “Do...do you have a key to the apartment, then?”
“A key? No.” Where the heck had that question come from? Then it hit me.
Oh, no.
Cora hadn’t asked her if she minded if I stayed over on some nights, had she?
Since Ten had made it explicitly clear that Cora was not allowed to stay at our apartment, I’d been worried at first when Cora had told me she was going to get a roommate. What if her roommate didn’t want me sleeping in their apartment? We’d never get to stay together overnight again.
But Cora had assured me Zoey was cool with it. As I stared at Zoey, though, I knew Cora had never bothered to even ask her.
“I...uh...I was...already here,” I admitted, flushing hard.
When Zoey turned a bright tomato red as well, I lifted my hands. “Is that okay? If you don’t want me here after a certain time, I totally understand. I’m so sorry. I thought Cora had cleared it with you. She told me you were okay with me staying over some nights.”
“No.” She started to shake her head before she blushed again. “I mean, no, Cora hasn’t talked to me about it yet.” A frown creased her brow as she glanced away. “She must’ve forgotten.”
“Oh,” I said dumbly, still not sure what she thought of me being here.
The griddle popped behind me, making me jump and reminding me it was heated and ready to cook pancakes.
Zoey glanced at the griddle and then back to me before she self-consciously shoved her sleeve up to cover her exposed shoulder. “You know, it’s Cora’s apartment. Whatever she wants is—”
“No, it’s your apartment too,” I argued, not wanting her to think she didn’t have a say about what happened here. I really wished Cora had just talked to her about it. “You pay half the rent. You have just as much say-so about what happens here as she does.”
Zoey made a face of disagreement. “But she was here first and took care of setting everything up.”
“That doesn’t matter. You still have just as much—”
“You can stay the night, okay,” she burst out, letting me know she didn’t want to argue about this. Then her face turned scarlet as she realized what she’d blurted out.
I wanted to apologize for being an idiot and arguing with her over such a silly issue.
“Okay.” Ducking my head, I cleared my throat and turned back to my batter. I kept my back to her as I asked, “Want some pancakes?”
I knew she didn’t want me there, but I had a feeling if I’d left right then, it would’ve made her even more uncomfortable.
When she murmured, “No thank you,” a muscle jumped in my jaw. I hadn’t realized how much I’d wanted to impress her with my Saturday morning special until the disappointment over her rejection ran thick through my veins.
But I said, “Okay. No problem,” as if it didn’t matter.
Behind me, she cleared her throat discreetly. “So, I guess Cora forgave you last night.”
I glanced over my shoulder at her. She was wringing her hands at her waist and biting her lip as if she wanted to flee but wasn’t sure if she was allowed to.
With a slow nod, I took in her bare feet. They were cute and petite for someone with her height. The toenails were painted a pale pink.
“Well, that’s good,” she said.
I lifted my attention back to her face, and the effect her large green eyes had on me was like a punch in the gut. I turned my attention back to the pancakes and forced a big breath from my lungs. I was never so happy to hear footsteps coming down the hall.
“Good morning,” a new voice greeted as Cora breezed into the kitchen.
Relieved to have her here and unknowingly playing interference between me and her roommate, I turned to greet her with a smile after I flipped a pancake. “Hey, you.”
Her eyes warmed with pleasure. “Hey, yourself.” Sweeping up to me, she wrapped her arms around my waist, stepped up onto her tiptoes, and kissed me long and slow. “Have I ever told you how much I love Saturday mornings?” She glanced around and frowned. “What? No strawberries today?”
I laughed and tweaked her nose. “You’re up too early. I haven’t gotten them out of the refrigerator yet.”
I had to pass Zoey as I went to retrieve the strawberries. That smell of hers was particularly strong this morning. I held my breath until I’d passed by her again, hoping it didn’t mess with my hormones today as it had the other night. “Are you sure you don’t want any pancakes?” I asked her again. “We have strawberries too?”
She shook her head just as Cora said, “Of course she wants pancakes. Seriously, Zo. You can’t turn down Quinn’s pancakes. They’re legendary.”
I ducked my face. “They’re not really. I use a mix.”
“But he grills them to perfection.” Cora opened a cabinet door and pulled down three plates. “You’re eating.”
So the three of us ate breakfast together.
Cora talked the entire time, meaning there were never any uncomfortable silences. “Quinn used to cook bacon to eat with his pancakes. But I can’t stand the smell of bacon, so he stopped, just for me, and transferred over to strawberries.” She grinned up at me and slid her hand up my forearm before returning her gaze to Zoey. “Isn’t he just the best boyfriend ever?”
Zoey blushed but smiled obligingly. I wasn’t sure what to do about her anymore. Before we’d met, I’d wanted us to be friends. I’d wanted her to like me. After learning how intensely some parts of me reacted to her, however, I wanted distance from her more.
I’d never do anything to betray my girl, but there was no need to create any undue awkwardness where I could avoid it. But what was I supposed to do when Cora wanted us both around her together?
The whole thing depressed me a little. I’d been so hopeful that I could befriend Zoey. If only there wasn’t always this thrumming tension brewing inside me when I looked at her. Inappropriate urges kept bubbling up. I wanted to move closer, inhale that lovely mysterious scent, touch her soft-looking skin, bury my fingers in her hair, then press her against a wall and lift her up until the base of her throat was level with my mouth, where I could bite—
Great. There I went again. Muscles coiled tight, I glanced up cautiously from the pancake I was devouring, hoping no one could guess where my mind had just gone. Cora was still carrying on about who was who in her crowd of friends, and Zoey hugged one arm over her chest and nodded as if she was trying to pay attention while her mind was wandering in a completely different direction.
I glanced away, smiling to myself because her reaction reminded me too much of what I did when Cora started gossiping about all her girlfriends. It really was too bad I had to stay away from Zoey. I think I would’ve liked her.
A hard knock on the front door interrupted Cora mid-speech a split second before the front slammed open.
“Hey, motherfuckers,” a familiar voice called. “Don’t tell me you little pigs ate all the pancakes yet, did you?”
Zoey sat up straight, her eyes wide. “Who is that?” she asked while Cora whirled to me, scowling.
“What the hell is he doing here?”
“I-I don’t know.” I started to stand, but Ten appeared in the kitchen entrance before I could waylay him. Grabbing onto the doorframe above his head, he leaned into the room and leered at us, wiggling his eyebrows. “Well, doesn’t this just look like a cozy little threesome?”
Zoey gasped a
nd set her hand over her heart.
Ten winked at her and glanced at me, knowingly.
I scowled. “What’re you doing here?”
“And have you never heard of knocking?” Cora snapped.
Ten’s eyes narrowed when he glanced at her. “I did knock, bitch. Weren’t you listening? And if I’d waited for permission to enter, you wouldn’t have let me.”
“Got that right, asshole,” Cora grumbled just before I repeated, “Seriously. What’re you doing here?”
“What?” He shrugged his shoulders as if he thought the question was incredulous. “Can’t I pick my roommate up for football practice? You do remember we have practice this morning, right?” He glanced between Zoey and Cora again. “You didn’t get otherwise...occupied, did you?”
I clenched my jaw, upset he was getting so close to some of the things I hadn’t been able to stop my brain from thinking. “Yes, I remembered practice.” I folded my arms over my chest and glared him down, silently commanding him to make another crack about me being here with both girls. “And my truck is right outside. I can drive myself.”
Ten dropped his arms from the doorframe. “Fine. Then I’m here for the pancakes, I guess.” He sauntered into the kitchen and winked at Zoey. “Morning, Blondie. These two didn’t keep you up all night, did they? You know, if they ever get too loud and rowdy, you’re always welcome to come back to my place to get away from them.”
“Ten,” I growled. I was tempted to break his face.
Something must be seriously wrong with me. Friday night, I’d pushed Cane Belcher against a wall? Last night, I could’ve easily taken out K.C. for the way he’d talked about Zoey. And this morning, I wanted to break Ten’s face. It was enough aggression in three days to freak me out. I never, ever wanted to take up any of my mother’s abusive qualities. But here I was, feeling violent all over again.
“What?” Ten glanced at me with his eyebrows lifted. “It was a perfectly polite invitation.” He smiled at Zoey again. “I honestly don’t know how they are together, you see. I don’t let her stay over at our place.” He returned his attention to me. “Sit back down and relax already, pretty boy. Practice isn’t for another forty-five minutes.”
My jaw bunched. I was about to order him from the apartment when Zoey surged to her feet. “Let me get you a plate. The pancakes are amazing.”
Wait? What? Zoey actually wanted him here? I couldn’t even feel smug about her praise of my pancakes. She looked too happy that he was staying. Even her shoulders weren’t as tense as they’d been since she’d entered the kitchen this morning. When she sent him a warm smile, I froze.
Oh, no. What if she liked him? What if... Nausea swirled up my throat. I have no idea why, but I didn’t like the idea of her liking Ten. At all.
Ten seemed surprised by her generous offer. He lifted his eyebrows and shot a glance my way. I wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face with my fist. And Cora was no help whatsoever. She just groaned and stuffed more pancake into her mouth.
“Well, hot damn. I like you, Blondie,” Ten finally announced. He smiled charmingly as he seated himself.
I was still standing, glaring at him when I noticed Zoey was having trouble finding which cabinet the plates were in.
“They’re in here,” I told her, brushing past her to open a door to her left. When Zoey let out a quiet inhalation, I turned back wondering what was wrong.
I hadn’t realized quite how close I’d moved to her until our gazes met and her green eyes, so pale they almost looked blue, were right there. A hitch in my breathing made me clench my teeth. Why did I keep noticing things about her, like how soft her cheeks looked, or how pretty her eyes were? I never noticed things about other girls. Cora was my it, everything I wanted and more. I didn’t like how my blood went hot every time I simply looked at her roommate.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, hastily grabbing a plate and shoving it at her before I backed off and returned to the safety of Cora’s side, where my core temperature thankfully once again lowered to normal.
I accidentally met Ten’s gaze as I slid into my seat. He lifted his eyebrows with a knowing smirk. I scowled back but quickly wiped it off my face when Zoey offered him the plate I’d handed her.
Ten winked at her as he took it. “Thanks, Blondie.”
She blushed and played with a piece of her hair. “Oh, it’s Zoey, actually.”
“Yeah.” Ten didn’t seem concerned as he promptly filled his plate, piling on a good half a dozen pancakes. “But I probably won’t remember that.”
As soon as Cora kissed Quinn goodbye, telling him to have fun at football practice, she turned to me, suddenly serious. “So, my next dialysis treatment starts in forty-five minutes. It takes half an hour to get there. You want to come with me or not?”
The emotionless, matter-of-fact way she asked flabbergasted me at first. When I finally got my bearings straight, I nodded my head vigorously. “Y-yes, of course, I want to come.”
“Then hurry up. We leave in ten.” She strode past me and down the hall toward her room. “Don’t worry about dressing up. It’s not exactly glamorous there.”
I was ready in five, yanking on the first shirt and jean shorts I came across. After tugging my hair into a ponytail, I hurried to the front room, worried Cora might leave without me. She just seemed so stoic and unresponsive about the entire thing.
Heart pounding because I had no idea how the procedure went, or what I was supposed to do while she was...doing whatever she did, I sat on the floor by the front door and slid on my shoes.
Cora exited her room just as I was getting back to my feet. She had her hair up as well, with the shortened front strands smoothed back with a headband. And she wore no makeup, which made the sleep lines under her eyes stand out. “Ready?”
I nodded.
Not sure what I could ask without annoying her, but curious about everything, I silently followed her to her car.
The woman drove like a maniac. What took her half an hour to reach the treatment center, probably would’ve taken a normal person forty-five minutes. She talked on her phone to friend after friend the entire way, telling each one of them she was taking me shopping.
I bit my lip, wondering why she felt the need to lie. When she had to hang up to find a place to park at the center, I couldn’t help but say, “It must get exhausting to always come up with things to tell people. Do you ever run out of reasons why you’re gone so much?”
She glanced at me, and I couldn’t tell what her eyes looked like through the large, dark shades she wore. But then a smirk creased her lips. “People will think I attend classes on Tuesday and Thursday, and on Saturdays...” She shrugged. “I keep active enough, no one questions it.”
I nodded but still felt confused.
The technicians were startled to see me stroll in with Cora.
“Finally got yourself a support system going, huh?” one woman asked with an approving nod.
Cora blew her off as she slid off her shades and put them away in her purse before pulling out some lip gloss and freshening her mouth. “Can we get started already?”
I quickly learned that where my best friend was shy on details, everyone else at the center was overflowing with them. I’d done some online research about all this, but what I learned in that first ten minutes left me reeling.
I learned that Cora had bypassed the home hemodialysis option, where she could’ve taken a machine back to her apartment and learned how to treat herself multiple times daily. Instead, she’d opted for the in-center hemodialysis where a trained professional administered the treatment and she only had to go in three times a week on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays at midday.
Each treatment lasted three to five hours. I had no idea how she managed to hide four hours a day three days a week from all her friends—Quinn especially—but she seemed determined to make sure no one else found out about it.
“We’re going to send your dietitian in to talk to you while they’ll clean yo
ur access,” Petey, the first guy to meet with her, announced before he left to check on another patient who was already hooked up and halfway through his treatment.
As I watched him check the monitors on the machine, I leaned in toward Cora where she was sitting up on a gurney. “Access to what?”
Cora glanced at me, her expression bland. She looked so calm and collected, while my heart wouldn’t slow down. I was worried about everything they were going to do to her.
“Access to my fistula,” she finally said.
“Oh.” I nodded. Five seconds passed. And then I couldn’t contain my curiosity a second longer. I leaned in again. “What’s a fistula?”
She sighed and lifted her arm to expose the flat inside part she’d so carefully covered with concealer yesterday before the car wash. “It’s this tube thing they implanted in here to access my blood and flush it through the dialysis machine to clean it.”
With a gulp, I stared at her arm, not realizing there’d been anything surgically implanted under the skin. She’d had to go through a lot more than I was aware of for her dialysis treatments. But as soon as she had the transplant, she’d never have to worry about them again.
The sooner I handed over my kidney, the better. I didn’t like knowing she had to spend so much time in this place. It smelled like antiseptic and sickness.
“Food police,” a cheerful voice jerked me from my thoughts. When a small, spritely woman bounded toward us, she glanced at Cora before turning her attention to me.
“Melissa,” she greeted, holding out a hand. “And you are?”
“Uh...Zoey.” I shook hands with her. “I’m Cora’s friend.”
“Great.” Melissa pulled up a rolling seat and propped herself next to Cora on the other side of the bed as me. “I’m the dietitian, and it’s my job to make sure Cora here is getting a healthy diet and taking care of herself. And now you can help me keep an eye on her when she’s away from here.”
A sick smile lifted the corners of my lips as I glanced at Cora. I already knew there was no way I was going to be able to help her eat right. She sent me a passive smile that felt more threatening than reassuring, then she turned back to Melissa and lied through her teeth. The only thing she’d been honest about was the strawberries she’d had with her pancakes this morning. She even took credit for the egg whites I’d gagged down for her the day before.