Page 117 of Now and Forever

Was he home? He had to be…

But upon opening his door, I was greeted by a made bed and no Drew Cavendish in sight. He probably had gone to school early, or maybe he had merely dropped these off and left. Whatever Drew had aimed to achieve with the impromptu treats this morning, be it my forgiveness or something else, I had to concede that he had succeeded in making himself significant in the majority of my thoughts.

Once I got to school, I immediately sought out my designated advisor, having an appointment with him first. Upon meeting him, he proceeded to go through my schedule. We spoke about what my intended goal was for this semester before he gave me a thorough rundown of what NYU had to offer when it came to extracurricular activities such as fellowships and organizations that could potentially pique my interest.

My classes were solidly filled from Tuesday through Thursday from eight a.m. to six p.m. It was either I joined something or found a part-time job somewhere to fill the rest of my week.

My parents wouldn’t be too keen about me having a job while in school. Most parents would actually encourage it, but mine were the kind who liked to get monthly dividends from the family business without lifting a finger, so they had no idea what the word “working” really entailed.

Not to sound harsh, but thank fuck I hadn’t inherited their mentality. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself quite honestly. Whatever I decided, it would be for the benefit of mental maturity and life experience. And since Jackson had gotten away with whatever he was up to with his secret school, then I was pretty sure I could do as I pleased as long as it didn’t reach my parents’ ears.

My next stop was the NYU Bookstore to get all the books I needed this semester. It took me a couple of hours to gather them all since I was often distracted, wandering around the rows of bookshelves, just browsing through books that captured my attention.

It was right after I paid for my items that my phone beeped, indicating a text message received. It was from my brother Jackson.

Dinner at home. Drew’s cooking. Hope you’re okay. See you later, booger!

Glancing at the time on the top screen of my phone, it stated it was fifteen past five. Well, I supposed this would be a good opportunity to discuss chores. And Drew offering to cook was always a good sign. Besides, I had missed his barbeques; they were the best. Then again, I hardly thought he would be dishing that out tonight. He’d probably opted for pasta or something along those lines. And as for those cupcakes, how could I even begin broaching that topic? I supposed I should see how tonight’s conversation panned out and decide from there.

I wasn’t particularly excited, nor was I indifferent about it, but maybe leaning a bit more toward blasé, so I surely wasn’t scurrying up to get to the apartment. When I finally got home and opened the door, the lovely smell of garlic sautéed in butter made my mouth water. It was one thing to be hot and all around sexy, but it was another to be hot, all around sexy, and be able to seriously cook a mean meal. And Drew was all of that and then some.

“I’m home!” I announced as I strode toward the hall then into the kitchen where I found Drew with messy bed-head hair and his cargo pants hanging low, just a tad below his pelvis. He was barefoot and donning only a black apron to cover his bare chest while he used metal tongs to check on whatever was in the hot pot in front of him.

Fuck. If my mouth had watered before, I was beyond salivating this time. Good grief. Was he ever planning to wear a shirt around here?

The ventilation fan was being used in full force, so I doubted he had heard me enter. I stood there for a moment, contemplating if I should try to get his attention or leave him be since he was busy with the heated pan where the garlic was being caramelized before he added the minced onion into the mix. I could stare at him all day long, and I wouldn’t be bored, but as lovely as that idea was, it sure as hell wasn’t feasible. Not now, not ever.

Slightly shaking my head to free it of idiotic thoughts, I took a few steps toward the six-seater glass table before leaving my purse and the paper bag on one of the seats.

I could feel my adrenaline kick up a notch as I approached the fridge, which was conveniently located next to where he stood.

“Hey,” I half-yelled at him before opening the fridge to get a small bottle of Fiji water before shutting it and leaning against it.

“You’re home,” he noted, his eyes on me.

I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I had this odd notion to be a bit daring as I opened the bottle, brought it to my lips, and began to drink it while our eyes were glued to each other. Just as expected, his blue ones darted from my amber ones then to my lips before he lowered his gaze toward my neck, watching it closely as the tip of his tongue came out to lick the bottom of his lip, stimulated.

“Do you want some?” I rasped out, watching his eyes dilate at the sight of my lips.

“Is that an offer or a challenge? I can’t be too sure,” he answered in a low, grated voice before he his gaze clashed again with mine.

This was nice and all, but as tempting as it was to keep playing with fire, a woman could only be burned so many times until she knew better and learned to appreciate from afar.

Forming a tight smile, I handed him the bottle. “Water. I meant water; that’s all.”

Something crossed his face. I couldn’t be sure if it was anger, disappointment, or irritation. Maybe a mixture of the three. Whatever it was, it passed, and his face became unreadable before he diverted his attention back to cooking.

I should have felt somewhat triumphant at my little display, yet I felt far from it. Somehow, his immediate withdrawal made me feel empty, bereft that he had disengaged so quickly.

Trying to engage him in a conversation was seriously out of the question. Instead, I strolled toward the living room with my phone in hand. Then I slipped my checkered Burberry ballet flats off and casually lounged on one of the white couches, hoping my brother arrived soon to ease the tension.

I occupied my time by sending my best friend Courtney a quick text about how my day had gone and that I hoped hers had gone better than mine. I was quite surprised to see that Spencer had just sent me one, as well.

How did your day go? Just want to ask if you’d be interested in coming along this weekend. We’re heading to Miami, and it’d be amazing if you’d join and keep me company. I promise to behave this time.

I hardly doubted Spencer knew what behave meant, but that was beside the point. There was an attraction between us, yet I still had some reservations. Besides, I sort of wanted to see what else was out there, enjoy my first year here without needing to worry about someone else’s feelings while I partied the night away. True, I wasn’t much of a party girl, but I didn’t want any obligations whatsoever on the romantic front.

Even if Spencer didn’t want to pursue anything serious with me, I wanted something different. My soul craved something edgy and maybe a little taste of danger … a whole different sphere, something unexplored, unexperienced by me before. Whatever that might be, I knew for a fact that Spencer wasn’t the guy to deliver the goods.

Before I could manage to type in my reply, Jackson arrived to save the day. Thank God for that, I thought as I greeted him with a smile and a warm hug.

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