Page 23 of Forever Wild
I follow behind her instead of going to the living room.
“Sit,” she commands when she sees that I’ve trailed after her.
I take a seat at the oval table just outside of the kitchen. Unopened mail and vitamin bottles sit in the center, as well as a worn paperback.
Before I’m fully situated, Everly is already approaching me with a fresh bag of frozen vegetables.
“Thanks,” I mutter quietly.
She laughs. “Why does it always sound like it pains you so much when you say thank you. Did your parents not teach you any manners?”
“As you can see, the parental lessons I got were a little less constructive.”
Her sassy smile slips. Shit. I didn’t mean to make her feel bad. I know she was joking and I turned it into a personal attack. Having her here has me all out of whack. My dad is not someone I introduceto people. They either pity me, which sucks, or they want to help somehow and there’s nothing anyone can do. Trust me. I’ve tried it all.
“I think there are steaks in the freezer.”
With a nod, she moves back to the fridge. She finds them and sets the package on the island.
“Those are going to take awhile to thaw out.”
Fuck, can nothing go right today?
“You know what, I got this.” She whirls around, opening cabinets and drawers to find whatever she needs.
“Pizza is still an option,” I say.
“This will be better.”
I’m intrigued but I don’t ask. Instead, I pick up the envelopes on the table. I started paying Dad’s bills years ago so there aren’t any surprises here, mostly junk.
The book is dog-eared about fifty pages in. When I was a kid, Dad was a big reader. He always carried a paperback with him: to my games, to doctor appointments, anywhere he might have a moment to sit and read. It’s been years since I thought about that. Though to be fair, it’s been years since I’ve seen him with a book lying around.
“Do you like to read?” Everly asks.
I set the book down. “No, not really. You?”
“I’m obsessed with thrillers.” Her face lights up. She has a big block of cheese in one hand and grates it into a bowl. It’s a shock to see either of those gadgets being used in Dad’s kitchen. Grilled steaks or burgers and takeout make up ninety-five percent of the meals that grace this kitchen.
“I’m reading this one right now about a woman who is a nanny for this really rich family. The wife is crazy and the husband totally has the hots for her. I think it’s going to be one of those snapped situationswhere the wife goes all scorned woman and kills everyone.”
I snort a laugh at the premise.
“Don’t laugh. With all the women you’ve left heartbroken, you could be one scorned woman away from a thriller plotline.”
She’s talking about my demise, but all it reminds me is that I haven’t fucked anyone in a while.
“Relax, I was kidding.”
When I clear the thoughts of sex (mostly) from my brain, I look over at her. Everly has one dark brow lifted and a smirk on her face.
“What are you making over there?” I ask, changing the subject for the sake of my sanity, and stand.
My knee is already feeling better, but I sit at the island on one of the stools and prop my leg up on the empty one beside it.
She waits until I’m situated before answering. “Macaroni and cheese.”
A laugh slips from my lips. “Seriously.”
