Page 58 of Mistle-Ho

Even better, she looks like she’s planning to sleep over.

“Hey.” Words fail me. Seeing Alexis here—like this—eases a little of the worry I’ve been carrying about my plans for our evening.

She gives me a soft smile. “Hey.”

Even though we’ve been communicating all day, this moment feels a little awkward. Different. Because now things are different. And it’s about to get a whole lot worse.

I step back, holding the door wide. “How was your girls’ night?”

Alexis seems to relax a little at the question. “It was actually really good. My friends loved Maddie and it seemed like sheliked them.” Her eyes drift to my kitchen. “Are you making food?”

I tip my head in a nod, uncertainty gnawing at my excitement. “I am.”

She lets out a long breath, shoulders relaxing even more as her overnight bag slides down one arm. “Thank God. I didn’t come close to ordering enough sushi, and I’m starving.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s no such thing as enough sushi.” I take her bag, setting it at the end of the long island separating the main living area from the kitchen. “I can eat my body weight in that shit and still be hungry an hour later.”

Alexis looks me up and down, gaze lingering on my chest and shoulders before coming back to my face. “That’s a lot of sushi.”

“It is, and I’m positive you didn’t come close to eating that much, so come sit down before you pass out from starvation.” I press one palm against the small of her back, directing Alexis to one of the counter-height stools I’ve never used before since I usually eat on the couch in front of the television.

Alexis slides onto the seat, her gaze immediately falling to the plate I pulled from the refrigerator. Her brows pinch together as she reaches out to hook a finger at the rim, pulling it close. “Is this…” She doesn’t finish and I feel like that’s a bad sign.

“Granny D’s cheese ball.” I pass her a butter knife. “I don’t have one of those fancy spreaders like she did, but I think this will work.”

Alexis stares at the appetizer, her pretty face still tight with confusion. “How do you know how to make this?”

“Like I said, your grandma is who taught me how to cook.” I round the island on my way to the oven. After grabbing a couple hot mitts, I start pulling out our dinner. “And she told me all her secrets.” I settle the dish of scalloped potatoes onto the counter before going back to retrieve the meatloaf. Once it’s in place, Ipeel the mitts away, take a deep breath, and lift my eyes to Al’s face, bracing for her reaction.

Her eyes move from the meatloaf, to the potatoes, to the cheeseball and crackers, before finally coming my way. “You made all this?”

Her tone gives nothing away. Doesn’t hint at whether she’s happy or I’ve come on too strong.

“I just thought since you fed me last night, it was only right that I feed you tonight. And I know you loved your grandma, so...” I run out of shit to say. Out of explanation to give. All I can do is wait and hope I haven’t fucked up already.

Alexis stares at me a second before once again looking over the meal I made. Silently, she slides off the stool and rounds the island, stopping at my side. For a few more torturously long seconds, she stares at the meatloaf and potatoes.

Then she jumps at me, arms locking around my neck as she squeezes tight, her face buried in my neck. “This is amazing.” It’s not until she sniffs, her breath hitching, that it registers that Al’s crying.

“No, no, no, no.” I wrap my arms around her, hugging tight. “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought you might like eating some of Granny D’s favorite recipes.”

Alexis tips her head back, watery eyes moving over mine.

Something just changed. I see it in the way she’s looking at me. It’s like she’s seeing too much, and it has me gently setting Alexis on her feet before turning away, needing some space from whatever just happened between us.

“I have something else for you.” I’m working on autopilot, going through the motions of what I had planned, unable to think of anything besides the way she just looked at me. “It’s what I wanted to show you last night.”

I open a drawer and pull out one of my most prized possessions. I’ve carried this thing with me for over a decade, but I think Alexis needs it more than I do.

Turning to face her, I pull in as much air as I can manage and hold the item out between us.

“What’s that?” Her voice is barely a whisper.

“Granny D wasn’t confident in my ability to remember all the shit she taught me, so she made me a little book with all her recipes in it.” I move it closer to Alexis. “I think you should have it.”

For a second, I think I’ve fucked up again. Gone too far. Done too much.

But then Al takes it, her delicate, tiny fingers reverently sliding over each page as she silently flips through the small, handwritten notebook.

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