Chapter 25
“Do you think she likes chili?” Mila asked, her face making no secret of what she thought the answer was.
“I think she probably likes it better than the other things I can make.”
“What else can you make?”
“Exactly.”
She groaned and flopped back onto the couch dramatically, like the world was ending, in the way that only young teenage girls could truly commit to make it work.
“I don’t know why you’re so worried,” Troy said, trying to keep his voice as neutral as he could so as not to spin the conversation out into crying, or screaming, or accusations about how he didn’t understand.
It was true. He didn’t understand. He didn’t get what the big deal was about most of the things Mila thought were world-ending since the whole teenager thing had started. And, frankly, he didn’t really care to. But the way Mila said it made it seem like a shortcoming.
“Um, oh, I don’t know. Because she’s elegant? Because she’s from New York? Because she’s famous? Take your pick!” She punctuated the list with a tortured moan.
Troy put the spoon he’d been stirring the chili with down on the spoon holder and walked over to sit next to Mila on the couch. He waited in silence for a moment, giving her space to catch her breath. Finally, he said, “Hey, Mila-bug. Are you feeling nervous about Alison coming over here tonight?”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Why? What is scaring you?”
She thought for a moment, then turned to him. “What if she gets over here and is, like, ‘This house is so small and normal-y. We’re having chili for dinner. I can’t be seen with people who’d make chili for dinner!’”
“You’re afraid we’re not good enough for Alison?”
She hesitated a moment, then nodded.
Troy squeezed her shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about that, Mila. I promise you Alison’s not caught up in things like money and material stuff. Hey, the first time she met me, I was working construction, right? And that didn’t scare her away.”
Mila took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m not gonna freak out.”
The front doorbell rang then, and Mila grabbed one of the couch pillows and pressed it into her face as she squealed. “Okay… maybe a little freaking out.”
Troy chuckled as he made his way to the front door. The way Mila had come to life around Alison gave him hope that maybe he hadn’t completely lost the sweet little girl she used to be. Maybe that girl was still lurking in there somewhere, buried under layers of detached too-coolness, nail polish, and social media.
He pulled open the door and Alison was standing there, looking even more stunning than she had that afternoon. He wouldn’t have thought it was possible. She’d nearly given him a heart attack in the wispy, feminine sundress she’d worn to collect shells on the beach.
But, here, in her fitted jeans with a soft long-sleeved tee and black high-heeled boots, she looked even better. Her hair was straightened, and it hung in a glossy sheet down her back.
He wasn’t a guy who usually noticed make-up one way or another, but the bright red lips she was sporting were tough to miss. They were bright and lush, apple-red and glossy, and they pretty much begged to be kissed.
Troy was seized by the urge to grab her right there in the doorway, let the bottle of wine she was holding go crashing to the ground in classic Alison style, sweep her up in his arms, spin her around and kiss her deep and hard.
It wasn’t appropriate. Obviously. There was no way he could do it.
That only made him want it more.
Instead, he leaned in to give her a hello kiss on the cheek and take the bottle of wine. With his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “The way you look tonight is making it very difficult to keep from taking you straight upstairs and forgetting the rest of the world exists for a few hours.”
She laughed, a deep and throaty chuckle, and whispered back, “Only a few hours? Come on, now.”
“Hey, Alison!” Mila’s voice sounded behind them, shattering the lust-bubble that seemed to form around them any time they were alone for even a few seconds.
Alison stepped smoothly past him and into the living room.
“Hey, Mila! Thanks so much for inviting me over tonight.” She paused and looked around the living room. “Wow, I love your house. Can you give me a tour?”
Mila flushed with pride, which in turn caused Troy’s heart to clench with love, watching her as she led Alison off down the hall. The last thing he heard the girl say as they disappeared into the back of the house was, “So, we’re having chili. I hope it’s okay. I’m pretty sure it’s all my brother knows how to cook.”
Ouch, kid. Way to throw me under the bus.Even if it is true.
But then he heard Alison’s reply, and it made him smile. “I love chili. The only thing I know how to make is lasagna, and I don’t even have a one hundred percent success rate.”
Oh, man. That lasagna. Troy was never going to live it down. All told, though, he was perfectly fine with that.