Page 40 of Forever and Ever

Thehousesmellslikepeppers and onions when I finally get home. Music hums from the living room. There’s energy radiating, and it stirs something in me walking into a house that isn’t permeating in stale silence.

I turn the corner to the kitchen and spot Merry standing at the stove with a spatula in hand as she swishes her hips to the music she has playing. The hem of her T-shirt rides dangerously close to the top of her thighs as she swings her body around.

Fuck.

This woman is going to be the end of me.

I haven’t gone back to the studio since dropping in a few days ago. If I thought her living in my house was torture enough, seeing her sing is much worse. The tough chick she likes to pretend to be slips away when she’s standing in front of a microphone. And all I see is the girl I wish would fall for me, singing songs that sound too close to confessions I know they aren’t.

Hoping for more with Merry is the kind of crap that gets a guy in trouble. So I’m cutting that shit out.

“You’re cooking?”

Merry spins in surprise at the question, and it's cute that she looks irritated that I’ve caught her with her guard down. God forbid I actually see that she’s human.

She tightens her dark ponytail and tips her chin up ever so slightly. But it’s too late, I’ve already seen it, so I just shake my head and take a seat at the island to watch her.

“It smells good. What are you making?”

“Fajitas.” Merry smiles proudly, turning around to stir the peppers and onions around in the pan. “But don’t tell my dad I baked the chicken. He considers meat without grill lines sacrilegious.”

“If you introduce me to your dad, you better believe that me bringing up chicken will be the least of your worries.”

She shoots me a glare over her shoulder, but I don’t miss the smile she’s trying to hide as she turns back to the stove.

I could get used to her in my kitchen. Her in my house when I get home. Her in my life.

It hurts to even think it.

“Hopefully you’re hungry,” Merry says. “I made way too much. Downside of coming from my family, I suppose. Like my mom says, better to make too much than not enough. Wouldn’t want anyone to leave hungry.”

She’s waving the spatula in the air as she says it, almost like she’s imitating her mom, and I’m curious if she’s anything like her.

“Starved,” I say, appreciating that she seems extra chatty today.

“How was practice?” She tips the pan to empty the peppers and onions into a bowl.

Her eyes dip to where my hands rest on the island, and I realize I’m tapping my fingers against it.

“Fine. Mostly uneventful.” I shrug, burying my hands in my pockets. “Sebastian and Eloise got into it about one of the songs. El’s been kind of grumpy lately.”

Merry spins around and braces her hands on the counter. “Speaking of grumpy Eloise, I’ve been meaning to ask you, did you know Adrian has a girlfriend?”

“Adrian?” I cock an eyebrow. “No fucking way.”

“That’s what Eloise said.” Merry shrugs one shoulder and purses her lips.

“It would explain why he’s been too busy to go out with me and Rome.”

Merry rolls her eyes. “Or maybe he’s just tired of the seedy strip clubs you two frequent.”

“He’s a dude. No guy is ever tired of seeing tits.”

That gets me an even bigger eye roll, but it’s better than telling her that I’d gladly give up strip clubs, and anything else she wanted if it would make her happy.

Fuck, I’m lame.

“You’re back in the studio tomorrow, right?” I change the subject.

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