Page 46 of Frosting and Flames

“Do you want help cleaning?”

The reluctance in his tone is nearly laughable.

“No. I’m the one who invited someone over. And you’re on lunch break, anyway.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief. “Good. Because I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, that’s obvious.”

He grins as he gets his leftover takeout from the fridge and sticks it in the microwave to heat. “What, like you’re Mr. Clean?” he jokes.

“No. We’re both fucking slobs. How’d it get this bad?”

I look around at the sink full of dishes, a coffee mug balanced precariously on top of a leaning tower of plates, and pizza boxes stacked next to the trash can, one still open with a lone piece of crust left behind. Beyond the kitchen, Tanner’s overflowing pile of laundry rests on one side of the couch, a few pieces folded in a half-hearted attempt before the task was abandoned. Unopened mail and takeout menus clutter the coffee table, and a layer of dust coats the TV stand, with faint smudges of fingerprints on the TV itself. And that’s just what I can see at the moment. Forget about the bathroom, my bedroom—

Shit. I should clean up in there, too. Just in case.

I nearly laugh aloud at my delusional self. What are the chances I could ever get Rachel in there?

“Where’s the mop?” I ask as I shift and my socked feet stick slightly to the floor.

Tanner scratches at the stubble on his jaw. “I’m honestly not sure if we own one.”

Wonderful.

“Just get your laundry before you go back to work.”

I shoo him out of the kitchen and get what I can done, leaving time to run to the store to get the ingredients we need and shower, too.

And before I know it, Rachel’s at my door, wearing a casual dress that falls right above the knee. I’ve rarely seen her in a dress, and I blurt out, “Wow, you look good.” Paired with the long fall of dark hair down her back—which again, she rarely wears down—the effect is striking.

“Oh.” She seems startled at my compliment, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. “Thanks.” Her hands smooth out the skirt of her dress, almost like a reflex.

I gesture her inside, mentally wincing at my stupid mouth.

She walks past me, surveying the place. Her back is to me, and I take the opportunity to drink my fill of her without her notice. The dress is more fitted around her torso than I’m used to seeing from her, and I have the sudden insane urge to walk behind her, my palms spanning her waist just to see how she fits in my hands. To wrap all that long hair around my hand and tug, sweeping it aside to expose the column of her neck. To bend my head and press my lips there along the delicate skin.

My hands flex at my sides as I turn away, banishing the mental image. That’s not what this is between us.

“I can’t explain it, but this place seems so familiar,” she says, slowly spinning in a circle, taking in her surroundings.

“I’m pretty sure I would have remembered you coming here.”

I sway momentarily as a thought occurs to me. What if Tanner… No, he wouldn’t. He’s always known how I’ve felt about her.

“I have been here,” she exclaims. “In there.” She points to Tanner’s room.

I blanch. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. When I get my hands on him…

“That’s my roommate’s room,” I say in as civil a voice as I can manage. “Tanner. Do you know him?”

“I remember him from school. Haven’t seen him in a while.”

In how long exactly? And in what capacity?

“No, this was from before you lived here,” she continues. “The Reyes family used to live here. They had a daughter our age. Oh gosh, what was her name?” Her lips twist as she stares down at the floor, thinking. “Tori. Do you remember her from elementary school?”

Unexpected relief fills me. I don’t have to kill Tanner after all. “Um, maybe?”

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