Page 117 of Secret Shifters Next Door

“Hey? Oh, it’s you. Sorry, April’s busy.” He ended the call without another word.

My eyes widened in surprise. “Why did you do that? I was talking to him.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Looked more like you were staring at me. I didn’t hear a whole lot of talking.”

“Well… that… uh?—”

“I still want you to know that I wasn’t joking when I said that guy was bad news. Have you eaten?”

My head was spinning. He was bouncing between topics too fast. I felt drunk, even though all I’d had at Kellan’s house was lemonade. The question still stood, though. Yes, I was hungry. I’d barely eaten anything at the cookout. I’d been too busy trying to understand Kris’s and Kellan’s change of heart regarding Steff. My stomach growled.

The sound must have carried, because Steff glanced at my tummy and grinned. “I’ll take that as a no. Come on.” He took my hand and led me to his truck.

“What are you doing?” I asked dumbly.

“I’m feeding you. What does it look like?”

We stopped at the passenger door of his truck. He opened it and pulled out what looked like to-go containers in a big plastic bag. He turned back and said, “I was hoping to catch you home. I wanted to invite you over for dinner.”

I frowned but let him lead me to his house. My mind was one big glob of emotions and thoughts. I couldn’t begin tounderstand anything that was happening. Part of me was still thinking about what Kellan had said. Another was trying to come up with a way to apologize to Ryland the next time I saw him. Another was trying to figure out what the hell Steff was thinking. Every part of me followed him into his house, though. I didn’t even try to put up a fight.

I stood in his foyer, watching him gather plates and cups and pull containers from the bag. While he worked, I glanced around his house. It was… beautiful. The paint and artwork? The furniture and lighting? It was like a professional had decorated the place.

“Did you,” I swept a hand around the room, “you know.”

It took him a minute to get what I meant. “Oh, you mean my décor? I hired a lady out of Denver to come take care of it. I told her a little about what I was looking for, and she did everything else. You like it?”

I did. And, secretly, I was more than happy that an old girlfriend hadn’t decorated it. That would have been strange and disheartening. It was silly. I didn’t get to have a say in who decorated his place. If it had been an ex, what would I have said?Oh, no. I can’t be in here. The ex-girlfriend of my ex-boyfriend had her hands all over this place.It made no sense.

Steff emerged from the kitchen carrying a glass of wine. He brought it to me, and I accepted. For me, things were awkward. Being here inside his house. Drinking wine and talking about home décor. It was crazy. And as crazy as I felt, Steff looked completely cool and calm. It was like he had me over for dinner every night. Like this was an everyday occurrence.

“Come on. Let’s eat.” He guided me back to the table.

I sat and saw that he’d picked up Thai food. It looked delicious. I picked up the fork, yet as hungry as I was, I only picked at the food.

Steff looked at my plate. “If you have something you want to say, you can say it.”

I dropped my fork and looked at him. “What are we doing here, Steff?”

“Looks like we’re eating dinner.”

“Ugh, no. Not what I mean, and you know it.”

He grinned at me, and my heart skipped a beat. I’d always loved his smile, and I was pissed that it still had that kind of effect on me. You’d think after all these years something would have changed. Apparently not.

“Okay, for real, I’m trying to make amends,” Steff said. “I know one dinner, even twenty, may not be enough. I need to start somewhere, though.”

“Why now?” I asked, surprised by his honesty.

“When else? If not now, then when? You don’t come home much. As far as I know, you haven’t been back in years. I’m not sure how long you plan on being back, and this may be my only chance to make things right with you.”

My stomach fluttered and twisted with excitement and anxiety. The next question I asked terrified me, but I asked it anyway.

“Why is it so important for you to make things up to me?” My voice was barely above a whisper.

He looked into my eyes, his gaze growing intense. I forgot to breathe, caught up in him. “Because I don’t think our story is over yet. I think there’s more left. A few more chapters at least.”

If I’d been standing, my knees would have buckled. Those words rocked me to my core. At first, I was too stunned to speak. Then my mind flooded with so many emotions I couldn’t keep track. Hope, love, confusion, pain, shame, heartache. It all flicked through my mind, fighting to be heard above the others. One emotion rose above, stronger than them all. Anger.

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