Page 30 of Rim Shot Rebound

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

Eric scrolled through his playlists until he found the right one and set it to air on his living room speaker. A few seconds later, his house filled with the edgy, bluesy voice of Grace Potter. He’d made a playlist filled with Kelsey’s favorites over a year ago, so she’d always have something she liked when she came over. They listened to each other’s music all the time, but he wanted her to always feel at home here.

He hurried back to the kitchen to toss the pasta in with the sauce. He’d tasted it at least ten times, trying to get it just right. Exactly the way he remembered it. It was pretty darn close, if not perfect.

When Kelsey’s signature knock echoed through his kitchen, Eric wiped his hands on a towel and opened the side door. She walked into the kitchen wearing a black Zildjian T-shirt with faded ripped jeans. Her dark hair had a chunk of bright, freshly dyed purple, and a euphoric wave of excitement and anxiousness flooded him as she passed.

Kelsey lifted her nose in the air, and her eyes widened with delight. “Is that what I think it is?”

Eric scooped pasta high in the air and piled it on a plate. He then spooned extra scallops and shrimp on top. “Sure is.”

“Oh my goooooosh.” Kelsey greedily grabbed for the plate and held it steady while Eric shaved fresh parmesan over the top. “I swear I still have dreams about this stuff. You found a recipe for it?”

“Sort of.” He served himself a portion from the stove, then followed her to the little dinette table in the next room. “Remember Warren?”

“From school? Sax player?”

“Yeah. He moved to New Orleans a couple years ago. I found out his roommate’s a chef. Used to work at that restaurant we went to. I begged Warren to find out how to make this.”

That reaction—her satisfied smile, the delight in her eyes, everything—was worth the massive favor he now owed Warren. Worth that and more.

She took a bite and leaned back in her chair. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”

He poured them both sparkling raspberry-flavored water into wine glasses. “Glad you like it.”

“Absolutely.”

“That was a fun trip. I still can’t believe you went up and sang at the Cat’s Meow stone-cold sober.”

“You can thank Natalie and Camille for that.” She laughed. “They needed another Spice Girl on stage.” Kelsey’s expression quickly fell as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair and took a sip of water.

“What?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“It’s something. What’s wrong?”

Kelsey frowned and hesitated. “That was the last trip we took together.”

They used to go away all the time. Just a day trip or a night here and there, to New Orleans or Houston or Galveston. Spur of the moment, usually. Sometimes with friends, sometimes just the two of them.

She was right. That weekend had been the last one they spent together. She had finally started feeling a little better as the morning sickness waned, and she’d felt restless from being cooped up and sick for so long. Only a few days after they got home, Kelsey found out she’d lost the baby.

Eric looked down at his plate, then over at hers. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t even—”

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