Page 7 of Knockin' Boats
“You do.”
I turned down the lane that led to my parents’ cabin on the lake.Cabinwas a bit of a misnomer. It wasn’t some charmingand rustic home but a modern, custom-built behemoth with a facade of knotty pine.
Which seemed fitting since our entire family was a facade at this point.
I pulled into the garage and cut the engine. Mel was still on a roll, and I decided to let her get it out of her system. She’d earned it. After all, she’d given me this pep talk at least ten times, and I’d disappointed her over and over.
Disappointed myself.
I entered the house through the side door, stepping into my favorite place, the kitchen. Only the range light over the stove illuminated the room, gleaming off stainless steel.
I could carry on, through the kitchen to the back door. The guest house I’d moved into a few weeks ago when my last roommate flaked out was just across the yard.
But I was restless and?—
My stomach growled.
Hungry.
Decision made, I flipped on the lights and opened the refrigerator to pull out swiss, gruyere, mushrooms, and onions for the first sandwich, prosciutto and smoky gouda for the second, and brie and?—
“Where the fuck are my blackberries?”
“What?” Mel stopped mid-rant, confused. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Of course I am. You’re right. I need a change.”
“Well, of course I’m right.”
“Someone fucking ate my blackberries and those were for testing the grilled cheese trio! Ugh!”
“Seriously? You’re cookingnow?”
“So?”
“It’s almost midnight, you freak.”
“It’s been a long night, and after that fiasco with Sawyer, I need comfort.”
“Are you talking about the cooking or the eating?”
“Both.”
She chuckled. “I do miss having a guy who wanted to feed me.”
“If you took me back, I could cook for youevery day,” I said, only half-jokingly.
Mel and I didn’t work as romantic partners. Never had. But I needed to get out of my parents’ place.
“Tempting, but no. You use more beauty products than me.”
“Rude!”
Mel laughed. “But true.”
I flicked on the stove burner and set a skillet over it to heat, then drizzled some avocado oil into the pan. Once it was hot, I added the onion and mushrooms and set about slicing the baguette into miniature rounds.
“So, what did happen with Sawyer?” Mel asked when I was nearly done caramelizing the onion and mushrooms. “You never said.”
