Page 32 of The Manny

While the food heated I stared out the window over the sink. There was a full moon hovering above the tops of the trees, and a breeze fluttering the leaves. I was still struggling with having other people living in my home. Usually, I’d have turned on lights and not worried about banging pots, but with Mia and Thomas here, I had to be considerate.

I was twenty-seven, but, as an adult, I’d never lived with anyone. Well, not counting my stint in prison. Perhaps my time in jail was what made me loathe the idea of having other people around. I valued my privacy far more than many others because of that horrible time in my life. It had been a shock hearing Mia mention it tonight. Who could blame me for wanting to pretend it had never happened? Who wanted to remember being betrayed by their best friend? But all the denial in the world couldn’t erase the felony on my record.

Fucking Kenny Harris.

I pinched the skin between my eyes. Had Jules really been sad about leaving me behind? Had she actually blamed herself for me getting in trouble? I’d probably never know how she’d really felt. The sad truth was my only window into Jules’ mind would have to come from the lips of a five-year-old. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to open that can of worms.

“You should have told me you were hungry.” Thomas’ soft voice came from behind me. “I’d have reheated dinner for you.”

I jumped and turned to face him, feeling startled and annoyed at the intrusion. “You should be in bed.”

“It’s a little early for me to go to sleep.” He came closer.

“All the lights were off.”

He shrugged and stopped a few feet in front of me. “I wanted Mia to think I’d gone to bed.”

“Hmmm.”

He laughed. “Am I not allowed to stay up? Do I have a curfew I’m not aware of?”

“I was just getting some food.”

“Is that your subtle way of telling me to leave you in peace?”

Irritation prickled me and I moved to the stove to stir the stroganoff. “Maybe.”

“Somebody is in a pissy mood.”

Sighing, I said, “I’m just not used to having strangers in my house.”

“I know.”

“I merely wanted to make myself some food and not have to talk to anyone.”

He laughed. “God, you’re full of yourself.”

I scowled. “Oh really?”

“Yeah.” He chuffed. “Are you under the impression I came in here because I’m seeking your charming company?”

“You’re here aren’t you.”

“I didn’t come in here because I wanted to talk to you. I came in here to get a bottle of water. While I was here, I thought I’d be polite and say hello. It would have been a little weird of me to ignore you, don’t you think?”

My face warmed. “How would I know all of that?”

“Maybe don’t assume you’re irresistible to me,” he mumbled, opening the fridge. “You’re not my type.”

Why that statement annoyed me, I wasn’t sure. I focused on the bubbling food, although my gaze kept wandering to him peering into the fridge. He was moving items, searching for water, and his T-shirt rode up, showing a part of his lower back. My body warmed at the sight of that bare flesh, but I gritted my teeth and looked away.

“Of course the water has to be at the very back of the fridge,” he muttered.

I poured the stroganoff into my bowl and took the dirty pan to the sink. I washed the pot, hoping he’d leave the kitchen. When I glanced over my shoulder, he was gone. With a sigh of relief, I grabbed a fork and went to the kitchen table. I sat down and took a bite of the food, sighing at the rich beefy flavor. One nice thing I could say about Thomas was he was an excellent cook. He hadn’t made a meal yet that wasn’t delicious. I felt a little guilty about being rude to him a minute ago, but the guy rubbed me the wrong way. I always felt on edge around him.

You’re not my type.

I shoveled more food in my mouth, feeling disgruntled. Where did he get off saying I wasn’t his type? Had he been implying I wasn’t attractive or something? I certainly had no trouble getting guys. I found his dismissive comment doubly annoying because he actually was my type. I liked fit guys with blond hair and blue eyes. If we’d met at a bar, I’d have probably hit on him. Was he saying he’d have turned me down?

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