Page 37 of Can't Kiss the Chef

I set the chair on the cold concrete floor. Marcus has a Nurf gun pointed in my direction. And in any other scenario, I would have found that absolutely hilarious.

I fall into the seat and bury my head in my hands that rest on my knees.

“What did I miss?” Josiah asks. My teammates know the disdain that I have for the man who just walked in with the girl I miss more than I thought I was capable of.

“That guy, Lola, walked in with, is Byron’s arch nemesis,” Aaron informs our football-playing roommate.

If looks could kill Aaron would be dead. This isn’t some cartoon like hatred. Dalton made my life a living hell.

“Dalton grew up on the Upper East Side. His trust fund could probably feed a small country for a decade and he wouldn’t miss that money. He had all the top trainers, practiced at all the best rinks,” I gather myself before I continue. “Jalen and I played for a team that gave underprivileged kids the chance to play hockey. We all had hand-me-down equipment. We played Dalton’s team in scrimmages and tournaments. The shit he would say was just wrong.”

I can’t look into my roommates’ eyes. I’m not embarrassed to have grown up with a single mom in a small two bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. My mom sacrificed everything to make sure I had an amazing childhood. I love that her work ethic is instilled in me, something a pretentious prick like him will never have.

“Then he committed to Hamilton University, and I knew I’d have to play him twice a year. How the fuck does he know Lola?”

“I don’t know By, but they look cozy,” Josiah tells me. Ripping off a band-aid would be less painful.

I groan. My head hangs over the back of my chair.

“What are you going to do about it?” Marcus asks. “You have a class project with her. The same friend group. I know you miss her, Byron. That you want her back. So show her why you are the right one for her. Remind her why you were worth sneaking around for.”

“She was the happiest I had ever seen her last semester. Even when I didn’t know that it was because of you, I knew whatever the change was, Lola needed to make it permanent,” Aaron adds as he pats my shoulder.

My friends are right. There is not a doubt in my mind that Dalton’s true colors will eventually shine. I pull the beer out of Marcus’ loose grip and finish it off for him.

“Boys, I think we have a party to host.”

14

Lola

“Where are the guys?” I slide the case of seltzers we brought into the fridge. Indy looks just as confused as I feel that we can’t find a single person who lives in this house.

Dalton puts his hand on the small of my back and I tense a little. I spent the last year trying to hide those touches. It feels a little weird being here with another guy. Margo told me I was being stupid. If Byron wanted more we’d all know. I refuse to be one of those girls who wait for their friend with benefits to fall in love with them.

Plus, I really like Dalton. Maybe I need a boring preppy guy in my life.

I honestly didn’t think that he would come. He was out last night and had to drive two hours back to school. They start practice on Monday. I wouldn’t have held it against him if he bailed on me tonight.

He showed up at my front door with my favorite hard seltzer—the one he bought me when we met this summer—in hand. We’ve just carried on from last night.

Like I told Oliver, the guys’ “Goodbye To Free Time” party is a can’t miss event. I feel like the smallest sardine in the can. It’s not worth even trying to fight for space but I do because nothing makes me happier than watching the stammering fool Aaron becomes in front of Charlotte.

“Are they even here?” Margo asks with a puckered face. By the look of it, that tequila shot was definitely not top-shelf.

The magnetic pull Byron has on me is still strong. Through the base of the pop music Indy added to the playlist and the dozens of conversations taking place, the moment Byron steps back into the house I can feel it. I just know he is here.

The boys weave through groups of people huddled throughout the main floor of their house. They only stop when they make it to the inner circle of our friend group. I watch each of them going down the line–it strangely feels like a funeral– ending with me and Dalton.

I try to introduce them to Dalton. With very blunt and candid words paired with a tone that we have coined, “If you’re not Lola or Aaron get ready to be punched,” he informs me, “We all know who Dalton is. He plays hockey at Hamilton University.”

With all my friends being on the basketball team I know that Hamilton is our biggest rival. Dalton seemed eager to come tonight. Didn’t say one disparaging thing about any of the guys. I thought they would be more mature than this.

Byron is the last of the guys to make it down the line. He comes in for a hug and I snuggle in a little deeper than probablyappropriate. I’ve missed the smell of his spicy cologne. It always paired so well with the rum he loves to drink.

Before he steps away he places a chaste kiss on my cheek. His soft blue eyes darken to a shade I hope to never see again when they lock on Dalton.

With a slight tilt of his head he drags his eyes down Dalton then back up. It’s almost like he can’t believe he had the audacity to show up here.

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