Page 32 of The Kitchen Contract

“Definitely,” Sammy agrees. He opens his arms for a hug, and I wrap my arms around him tightly. When I pull back, he leans in to kiss my cheek, something he’s done a hundred times in the past. It’s sweet and familiar—until someone bumps into my back, causing me to stumble forward. Our mouths graze in an awkward, open-mouthed almost kiss that has us both backing away rapidly.

“Sorry about that,” I say, my cheeks flaming as I fight the urge to wipe my mouth on my sleeve. Sammy’s a great guy, but we’re not that kind of friends.

Sammy laughs it off, much to my relief, though I notice his face also looks a little flushed. “Well, that was weird. Let’s not do that again,” he says with a wink. “My girlfriend probably wouldn’t appreciate it.”

I chuckle. “No, I would think not.”

“Let’s try saying goodbye again.” He holds out his hand for a fist bump, and I tap my knuckles with his. “See you later, Nora.”

“Bye, Sammy.” He heads for the exit with one last smile and wave, and I gather up my bag and prepare to follow. I shake my head and smile to myself as I think about what just transpired. That will be a funny memory to share in years to come. I’m sure of it.

21

ALEX

My stomach twists with a feeling like indigestion combined with a stitch in my side, and I turn on my heel and walk right back out the door of the café I just entered. I’m not hungry anymore after what I just witnessed.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Clearly, I misread all the signals I thought Nora was sending. I knew she was too good for me, but did I listen to my gut? No, I sure didn’t. Which is a crying shame, because if I had maybe I could have stopped myself from leaning into my growing infatuation with her, and it wouldn’t have felt like a punch in the gut to see Nora kiss that guy.

I should have known she was seeing someone. She’s never mentioned a boyfriend, but we’ve never really talked about that kind of thing, and it makes sense that someone as beautiful and kind and witty and talented as her would have guys lined up to date her.

I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I walk right past my car, and almost step out into traffic as the sign at the crosswalk blinks to “stop”. I never thought I’d say I’m grateful to have been honked at by a minivan.

I pause at the corner and prop my hands on my hips, dragging in a deep breath that I blow out slowly. At least the bright side of this situation is that I found out she was seeing someone before I asked her out and made a fool of myself. Even if she was willing to break up with the guy, I still won’t be asking. Never again will I be the guy who causes a breakup. Once in a lifetime is one too many times for me. I’ll live alone on an island for the rest of my miserable life before I ever compromise my integrity like that again.

I spend the rest of my lunch break walking in circles around the block where I parked. I’m surprised no one calls the cops to check out the mopey guy making laps past all these shops, but I guess it goes to show that no one is paying as much attention to you as you think they are. Finally, I stop at a smoothie place and get a small strawberry mango smoothie since I know I’ll be starving later if I skip lunch entirely.

Grant is in the lobby of the building when I return, saying goodbye to a client. I keep my head down, power walking toward the elevator, but he finishes up and jogs to catch me.

He steps into the elevator beside me and we ascend in silence. He eyes me suspiciously because we both know that while Grant is happy to ride quietly, I always have something to say. I slurp the dregs of my smoothie to fill the stillness.

The doors ding open, and we step out. I nearly sigh in relief, thinking that I’ve successfully dodged an uncomfortable exchange—until I realize Grant is following me to my office.

“What are you doing?” I ask, annoyed.

“Escorting you to prom. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re stalking me. If you try to steal my wallet or touch my hair, I swear I’ll scream.”

Grant rolls his eyes but keeps pace with me. “Clearly something is wrong with you.”

I feel like he might mean that in multiple ways, but I don’t comment. When we get to my office, I step inside and hold the door for him. I’m not above a wrestling match to keep him out of my space, but I’m not in the mood today. Plus, I’m told that wrestling isn’t appropriate at the office.

I sit down at my computer, intending to act like Grant isn’t here and pretend to work, but he sits on the corner of my desk where he can easily view my screen and crosses his arms. “So, what’s your deal?”

“What’s your deal? You’re the one who followed me in here.” I hold his gaze and take another casual slurp of smoothie, swiveling back and forth in my chair.

“You didn’t say a word to me for three stories. I could only conclude that something is direly wrong with you, and since Maddy’s not here, I’m the oldest sibling.”

I blink at him. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means it’s my job to take care of you.”

“You know I’m a full-grown man, right? With a degree, a house, a job? Nobody has to hold my hand when I cross the street.” I try to hide my irritation under a glib tone, but by the way Grant’s expression changes, I think some of it leaked through.

He holds up his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that.” His tone softens. “Look, you’re my brother, and I can tell something is wrong. I want to help if I can.”

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