I forced a smile and waited until he was past me, almost to the kitchen, before turning back around to go help set up the table. When I entered the room, Clara was all but pressed up against Dean, leaning into him and batting her long lashes up at him as he spoke.
Yeah, tonight was going to be a blast.
nine
dean
They were a family. It was clear by the way they spoke to each other, in their smiles, the sound of their laughter, and how they truly cared about each other’s lives. In the center of this family was their core—Brielle. She had been the one to set up the food, get everyone’s drinks, cut the cake, and serve them all.
I was fucking fascinated with her. Every move she made. Nothing about her was like other young women I had dated. Clara was the kind of female I was done with and no longer had any desire to waste my time on. Brielle should be too. She wasn’t twenty-five. She was twenty-eight. Her birthday was in November, and Damar was already planning her party, which he and Jim were going to throw at their apartment.
Otherwise, there was little talk about Brielle’s life. Damar spoke about the internet dating app they had invented. Clara talked about the concerts she’d been to, mentioning Slacker Demon more than once. Mrs. Jo talked about Andrew and his newest boyfriend. Everyone seemed relieved that Andrew had broken up with his last boyfriend, agreeing he’d been controlling.
I listened, waiting to hear more about Brielle. When she finally stood up and began cleaning the table, I waited to see who would help her. Clara moved her chair closer to mine and asked me what I was doing tonight. Not once did she glance in Brielle’s way to see if she needed help. Mrs. Jo and Damar were in deep conversation about the yoga class that was now being held in the park at sunrise. Jim had stepped out of the room to take a phone call.
I moved my chair back and stood up. I didn’t respond to Clara’s question, but I took my plate and the other empty items on the table, then walked over to the sink, where Brielle stood, filling the left side of the sink with soapy water.
“You wash; I’ll rinse and dry,” I told her.
Her eyes snapped up to meet mine, and I saw a touch of surprise there. Then, she narrowed them slightly. “You know how to do that?” she asked.
I shrugged and played along. “I’m sure if I get confused, you could help me.”
A small smile lifted the corners of her lips, and I wanted to run my finger over them. They were plump and always pink. Even after eating and drinking, they remained a pretty pink without the aid of lipstick or gloss.
“You don’t have to,” she said. “I’m sure they would rather talk with you.”
“But I’d rather help you,” I replied.
A blush stained her cheeks. “Okay,” she whispered, then turned her attention back to the sink.
I watched her as she began to wash the knife she’d cut the cake with. I liked the red polish on her nails. It was bold and sexy.
Damar, Jim, and Mrs. Jo moved from the kitchen to the living room. Part of me wanted to be alone with Brielle again, and another part wasn’t sure I could make the right choices if I were.
“Mrs. Jo’s furniture looks nice,” she said to me as she handed me the knife.
I took it from her. “You, too, could have nice, new furniture,” I reminded her.
She dropped her gaze back to the water. “Yeah,” was all she said.
I studied her and waited, thinking she was going to say more. She washed two more cups and handed them to me in silence.
“Have you changed your mind about the furniture?” I asked her.
She sighed then but didn’t look up at me. “No. It’s fine.”
“Her sofa is in awful shape. It even smells. She’s not going to tell you that though. She’s too proud, but the water damage did not do her any favors.” Clara’s voice came from behind us.
Brielle spun around and glared at the other woman. “It’s fine, Clara,” she snapped.
Clara rolled her eyes and placed a hand on her hip, then looked at me. “No, it isn’t. She bought it years ago at a secondhand store. The sprinklers going off put that thing over the edge of bad shape to just gross.”
My gut tightened. I watched as Brielle’s cheeks burned a bright pink, and I could tell she was embarrassed. As much as I needed this information, I also wanted Clara to shut up. She was upsetting Brielle.
“You finish the dishes,” Brielle said to her as she dried off her hands. “I need to go. Cam is supposed to call in a few minutes. I should get back to my apartment.”
Fucking Cam. He hadn’t been mentioned all evening. But Clara didn’t argue with her. She simply took her place, and Brielle glanced up at me with a small smile before leaving the kitchen.