Page 24 of Show Off

Sorry I’m a grumpy asshole.

Sorry I’m not more excited about the chowder thing.

Sorry I can’t let my guard down for one single, solitary?—

“Because the story’s under control, okay?” Lana’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “There’s no need for a preemptive distraction. I’ve got this handled.”

I freeze in the hall at her sharp tone. Her door gapes open an inch, so this can’t be a secret conversation. She’d shut the door if it was, right?

Doesn’t make me less of an asshole for lurking in the hall. I should go.

“My sex life isnotyour business.”

Or maybe I should wait here.

There’s a pebbled glass panel in her door, and I pick out her shadow sitting hunched at her desk. One hand holds a phone to her ear, while the other keeps tugging her hair.

Hair that’s soft and silky and smells like fresh peaches. I wonder if whoever she’s talking to knows it. An ex, maybe? Someone who’d broach such an intimate subject. Jealousy gurgles in my gut as I grip the fluted dessert cup that holds my meager offering.

“Mom,” she says, and my shoulders relax. I really should stop eavesdropping.

“That’s completely different.” Her voice sounds brittle, and I know this isn’t my business, but— “Where did you hear that?”

I’m frozen in place, hoping no one spots me lurking out here. If I move, will she see me?

“That’s—okay, fine.” Lana huffs and drops something on her desk. “There’s someone I’m interested in, but it’s not relevant here.” Another stretch of silence. “Because I’m not using my love life as a distraction.”

Whoa. Interesting. Even hearing only one side of this chat, I’m reading between the lines. For whatever reason, her mother wants Lana in a tutu, twirling for a crowd on the red carpet.

So to speak.

“I’m not discussing this right now.” She sounds firmer this time, but there’s a tremble in her voice. “Someone’s at my door, okay? I have to go.”

Shit.

There’s a thump of her phone and then silence. I hold my breath. Maybe that was an excuse. If she doesn’t know I’m here, I can still back away. Just tiptoe down the hall like I didn’t just overhear a whole conver?—

“Dal?”

“Yeah?” So much for that idea. “How’d you know it’s me?”

“I recognize the shape of you.” Her voice warms just a little. “And I don’t know many other people who’d stand outside my door holding a dessert cup.”

Shit.

This feels awkward. “I can come back if it’s not a good time.”

“It’s thebesttime.” She gets up and comes to the door. As she pulls it open, I’m hit with the full force of those blue eyes. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I’m such a jackass. “Here.”

“For me?” She takes it like I’m handing her the holy grail. “Wow, thank you.” She cocks her head to study it. “That’s not makgeolli.”

Her pronunciation’s perfect this time. “You’ve practiced.”

“Yes.” She tilts the tall dessert cup in her hands. “I watched YouTube videos until I got it.”

“Impressive.” I nod at the dessert cup. “That’s mango pudding.”

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