Page 23 of The Love Audit
“Look, Derek,” I began, my tone serious. He turned to face me, raising an eyebrow. “Yesterday…” I trailed off, trying to find the right words. Yesterday, what? What exactly was I trying to say?This would be so much easier if he weren’t standing there, leaning against the counter, shirtless, holding a mug like he’d stepped off the cover ofGQ. I took a deep breath and tried again.
“We did a good job yesterday convincing the Pikes that we are married.”
“I know,” he replied smoothly, while pouring newly brewed coffee into his mug. “I was there. What’s your point?”
“My point is that we should save our theatrics for when we have an audience.” For emphasis, I took a sip of my coffee—coffee I didn’t even want anymore. “There’s no need for us to pretend to like each other when there’s no one around to see it.”
“Is that why you stormed off to bed last night?” he asked with an infuriating smirk. “You thought I was pretending to like you?”
My heart was pounding. I couldn’t tell if I was nervous, angry, embarrassed, or all three. Derek’s smug tone wasn’t helping matters. Maybe it was the almost full pot of coffee I guzzled out of spite.
“I’m not sure what you were doing”—I stood from the kitchen table—“but what I am sure of is that it’s none of my business. I’m here for one thing and one thing only.” I turned to face him. “And it sure isn’t a walk down memory lane.”
“If my memory serves me correctly, I wasn’t walking down that lane by myself,” he said, pushing himself off the counter until he was mere inches away from me. He was so close I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. I forced my eyes upward. “This situation isn’t exactly ideal for me, either, but I’m trying to make the best of a—” He stopped abruptly, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d been about to say. Was he going to call our predicamenta bad situation? “I’m trying to make the best of… this.” He waved his hand vaguely around the kitchen. “Jasmine, if you can’t handle a friendly conversation or an act of kindness without getting your panties in a twist, maybe we should keep our distance from each other.”
His words helped me correctly identify my emotion: anger.
“I can handle anything you throw at me, Derek Carter.” I narrowed my eyes. “I. Don’t. Want. To. There’s a difference. If you can’t handle a polite and mature request to respect another person’s boundaries without getting your feelings hurt, then I’m glad we’re in agreement that the best way to handle… this”—I mimicked his gesture around the kitchen—“is to stay the hell away from each other.”
“Fine by me,” he replied, his voice low as he raised one eyebrow.
“Good.” I held his gaze for a moment before turning to leave the kitchen.
“I’m glad I won’t have to touch those feet again,” he called after me. “I had to wash my hands twice before they stopped smelling like corn chips.”
“You loved it,” I shot back over my shoulder, not even bothering to turn around before slamming the door to my bedroom.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Derek
Halfway through my morning run with Tora, still stewing over Jasmine ruining my morning coffee, my phone rang. I didn’t bother to check the caller ID before answering.
“What’s up, little brother?” Chris’s voice greeted me.
“Not a damn thing,” I muttered, stopping to catch my breath in front of the library at the edge of the town square.
“I was calling to find out the name of that restaurant with the waterfall and the private booths. I’ve got a shorty I’m trying to impress, and I need to pull out all the stops.”
“Eternity,” I huffed impatiently. “You good?”
“Yeah, but you’re not.” He chuckled. “What’s got your undies in a twist?”
His use of the exact phrase I’d thrown at Jasmine earlier made an impact. My chest tightened, and I gritted my teeth.
“Nothing, man,” I lied. “This project is just stressing me out.”
“Work doesn’t stress you out, little brother,” Chris said knowingly. “Is there something about this specific project that has you up early in the morning punching air?” He dropped his voice. “Or someone, maybe?”
I exhaled a deep breath, leading Tora into the fenced-in area behind the library. Once I’d checked for other exit points, I shut the gate behind me and unlatched his leash. He made a beeline for the ducks congregating around a small pond, and I took a seat on a nearby bench.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Chris.”
“Do what?”
“I don’t know if I can be this close to Jasmine. Half the time, I wanna kiss her; the other half…” I trailed off, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Pretty women will do that to you, kid,” he said with a sigh. “Ask me how I know.”
