Page 5 of The Hang Up

“Come on, Brock.” She nudged my arm as she continued cooking pasta for the salad. “Tell Auntie Nev all about it.”

“There’s no man. Hasn’t been a man for a while, so can we drop it?”

“What about that guy from the app?” I should have mentioned she was only obsessed with men for me.

“Um, no. He was clingy—already picking out matching dachshunds.”

She laughed. So hard, in fact, that we got the attention of others. “Something to share,” Vincent asked, and that stopped her mid-laugh. “No, Chef.”

After everyone returned to their tasks, she nudged my arm. “What about the silver fox out there?”

“That…that was nothing.”

“Could have fooled me.”

I focused on stirring my sauce. Nevaeh was tall and slim with dark skin and a classically beautiful face. And a mouth like a sailor. She was my best friend—not counting Sean—and more worried about my love life than I was. But talking about—thinking about—Joshua Miller, my actual best friend’s dad, was off-limits. I couldn’t focus on my béchamel and wonder if the heat in his eyes had been real.

I didn’t need another distraction. I had enough to worry about. My sister having cancer at fourteen was the main worry. My mom worked all the time to keep up with the mounting medical bills, and my roommate—I took a deep breath. I loved Sean like a brother. We grew up together. Hung out at each other’s houses. His was a lot nicer than mine, of course, with his dad being CEO of Miller Technologies. Had been the CEO. He retired after—no. Those thoughts of Sean’s dad and everything that happened after his heart attack…definitely off-limits.Crying into your sauce will ruin it, Brock. I imagined the words in Vincent’s voice and bit back a smile.

“After closing tonight, we’re getting a drink and you’re spilling your secrets,” Nevaeh said in a voice that meant business.

“Not happening.”

“We’ll see.”

I didn’t mind clean-up. Scrubbing things helped me focus. But tonight, all I could think about was Joshua Miller and the look in his eyes when he’d realized it was me he was checking out. It had been something akin to horror.

I tried to focus on something else. The Fourth of July holiday was last weekend. Angel loved fireworks. But this year, she’d been in the hospital. Mom and I had tried to make it fun, but it hadn’t been the same. When I was a kid, we’d all go to Sean’s house. The Fourth of July when I’d been sixteen stood out.

I’d been alone in the kitchen—just needing a moment of quiet in the guise of getting a drink—and Mr. Miller had come in, poured himself a glass of lemonade, and asked me how school was going. Then he’d chuckled—his dimples torturing me.

“That’s a lame question. Sorry. It’s summer break. Why would you want to talk about school?” He stepped closer. “Want to know a secret?”

I nodded, entranced and terrified at the same time.

“Adults have no idea what to say to kids.” He shrugged and took a drink. “It’s the easiest question to ask. Can I try again?”

I was unable to speak. Or breathe. Did I nod for him to go on? I wasn’t sure.

He tilted his head, his eyes on me, searching as if he really wanted to get it right this time.“You like to read Mark Twain. What’s your favorite book?”

I laughed nervously. But the answer was easy—automatic. “The Prince and the Pauper.”

“Why?”

Oh. Right. This was the hard part. Heat rushed to my face as I tried to think of something to say. But his shoulders were so big and he smelled like barbecue, sweat, and the cologne he wore that reminded me of a campfire. Smoky yet sweet. He took another drink and swallowed—it was impossible to focus.

“Don’t overthink it. If I hadn’t read it, what would you want me to know?”

“You’ve read it?” My gaze jumped to his.

“Of course.”

“What did you like about it?”

His eyes lit up. I hadn’t realized bushy eyebrows and crinkly lines around the eyes could be so hot. “That’s a great question,” he said. “And a technique I use all the time when I’m trying to think of what to say. People love to talk about themselves. I’m impressed with the way you turned that around, Brock.”

“Ready to go?” Nevaeh said, squeezing my shoulder and bringing me back to the present.So much for not thinking about Joshua Miller.

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