All of us had our own custom cure for a hangover that we swore by, but there was no fucking way Dean’s spicy food worked. Just smelling the greasy hashbrowns coated in hot sauce made my stomach churn.
Not as badly as it did when I thought about last night and what I’d said. God. Could I have been more ridiculous? I winced, my hungover mind replaying everything I’d said to Lorelei like a most embarrassing moments reel of my life. I called her a goddess! To her face! I rubbed my head and groaned.
“Drink this.” Oliver pushed a red sports drink at me. “We need electrolytes, boys. Lots of them.”
Red was the worst flavor, and I shoved it back.
“Coach will be pissed if we smell like beer.” Dean chugged a water bottle, then crumpled it up before tossing it into a trash can. “But man, last night was sick.”
“Say less, man.” Callum hadn’t opened his eyes yet as he leaned back on the couch. Coach wanted us back at the field midmorning to reflect on the game, to make sure we iced or were tapped, and some of us would do a light workout if we needed to.
I would opt out of that today. My mind felt like a freight train and a tornado had a love child, and I blamed Callum for the damn shots. “Why did you insist on bringing the bottle of tequila?”
“Because it seemed like a good idea at the time. Obviously.” He moaned, the sound like a dying animal, and it echoed in our living room. Dean was the only one capable of eating real food, and even he struggled to swallow it.
Oliver changed the channel to put on another college game from the west. I took some aspirin earlier and needed it to kick in ASAP. At this point, it was a waiting game until I felt human again. We stank, and a shimmer of shame coursed through me. Was all the partying and letting loose worth it to feel like this the next day? Maybe, maybe not, but it was the only time I could.
Soft thuds came from the stairs, and my breath caught in my throat. Unless one of the guys had a houseguest and forgot, that meant it was Lorelei.
She rounded the stairs, and a smile broke out across her face when she saw us. “Morning, boys. How we feeling? Ready for a run or want me to make mimosas?”
“Shut up, Lo,” Dean groaned.
“God you all smell.” She scrunched her nose and avoided looking at me. I knew because my gaze hadn’t left her once. She wore a navy crewneck sweatshirt and loose shorts, and her legs were shiny. My fingers twitched. I wanted her, badly.
And now she knows it.
“Wasn’t there some agreement when I let you live here about making us food?” Dean asked. He shoved his fork to the side of his plate and paled. “This tastes like vomit.”
“I could’ve told you that.” She walked up toward the back of the couch so she was about four feet from me, and I swore I could smell her lotion.
It reminded me of summer days, flowers, and sunshine. I closed my eyes, breathed it in, and when I opened them again, she stared at me. Her large doe eyes filled with heat for a second before she masked it.
Shit. That flicker of heat had my body sparking to life. What did that mean? That she wanted me too? It was one thing to see women attracted to me, but having it come from her made everyone pale in comparison. I was used to people wanting me for football fame, but with her? She didn’t give a crap, and it was sexy as hell.
Her last name is also Romano.
Lorelei sneezed twice before saying, “I have an hour before I’m heading to the union for a bit to work on this project idea with Mack.”
“Mack’s meeting you there?” Dean asked, a bit more oomph to his voice. “Why not come here?”
“You for real?” Lorelei’s eyes blazed. “You insisted I couldn’t bring friends here or else because of your teammates.” Her gaze flicked to me for a second. “That they would be too much of an annoyance.”
“Dude, I didn’t say that. I want females here. Mack, especially. Please,” Callum said, the dude still keeping his eyes closed. “She’s the blonde, yes?”
“Yes, but I’m going to stop you right there, Callum. Mack is off-limits from you.” She narrowed her eyes and pointed her finger at him real aggressively. “I’ll shave your eyebrow off while you sleep.”
He peeked one eye open. “Bet.”
Her face flashed with victory, and Oliver laughed.
“I mean, shit,” Dean said, wincing. “I did say too many distractions were bad, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you were a real dingus about it,” she fired back.
Dean said that because of me. God, he was a good friend. Gratitude washed over me, right before a flash of guilt for the thoughts I had about his sister. He knew what my life meant and that having people over here messed with my routine and plan. The fact he hadn’t thrown me under the bus with it meant a lot, and my stomach tightened with unease. What would Lorelei think if she knew it was me that had almost prevented her from moving in?
Dean sacrificed having his sister be upset with him for me, and I was thinking about kissing her and how she’d taste.
Was I that much of a selfish asshole?
“I mean,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m okay with it. As long as everyone else is, yeah, that’s cool. Your friend, Mack, can come here. To work on a project.”
She chewed the side of her lip, eyeing each one of us. “While I appreciate all your permission, you’re being weird. So, no.” She flicked Dean’s ear before heading into the kitchen.
With the open floor plan, I could still see her in the kitchen area without her knowing. Her shorts hugged her ass, and seriously, I couldn’t believe what I’d done last night. Confessing to her? She had to think I was a fucking creep.
The whole point of telling her was to make her feel better and to get it off my chest, but now I felt worse? This was why feelings were dumb. I should be laughing and eating with the boys instead of wondering how I could come up with an excuse to walk into the kitchen with her.
Idiot. Food. “I need food.”
Callum opened both eyes, smirking. “Thank god you have legs that can strut into the kitchen and hands to bring me back something.”
“You’re annoying.” I was tempted to push his legs off the couch so he’d fall, but I didn’t. Instead, I acted as naturally as possible as I stood up from the couch. Dean wasn’t staring at me with questions. Good. I was being smooth.
“Ask for C Dubs,” Dean said once I set foot in the kitchen.
“Wait, what?”
“C Dubs. She’ll know.”
I sighed. I had zero clue what the hell Dean said or what it meant, but I was glad he gave me something to do with my mouth because when she turned around and faced me, my brain turned into mush.
“Hey.” She licked the side of her lip as a slight blush crept up her cheeks. “Good morning.”
“C Dubs,” I blurted out.
“Fucking Dean.” She sucked her teeth before setting a banana on the counter. She laughed, whether to herself or me, I wasn’t sure.
She grabbed flour and syrup and baking soda. She then bent low and opened the bottom cabinets. Watching her work all around me was intoxicating, how she mumbled to herself and moved so fast between items. “Is there a waffle maker?”
“Um, why?”
Crouched down, she glanced over her shoulder and stared up at me. “C Dubs. Chicken and waffles. Lolo’s chicken and waffles. It’s a dumb nickname Dean’s called me since we were in junior high, and I owe him one.”
“You owe him… waffles?”
“Yes.” She glared beyond me, sneering. “It’s this weird language we have that honestly makes us sound nuts, so I’m not gonna get into it. But we each get one use of it a year, and mine involves waffles.”
“So, you’re going to make him chicken and waffles, no questions asked?”
“Not chicken. Waffles, yes. It’s the sibling rule we swore an oath to.” She shrugged and clapped. “Ah ha, there it is. I knew you were in here, you sexy grill.” She pulled out a large waffle iron and twirled it. “Oh, Dean?” she shouted.
“What?”
“Are you sure you’re turning in your C Dub card?”
“Yes. I’m desperate.”
“Okay, you’re done for the year.” Lorelei sighed and met my eyes. Amusement danced on her face, and she smiled. “Honestly, I’m glad he’s using it. He’s held it over my head all damn year, and I just knew he’d bring it out when I really couldn’t do it.”
“Having a sibling must be strange,” I said, an unfamiliar longing taking hold of me. I loved my grandma and my teammates, but this language and understanding between Dean and Lorelei fascinated me.
“It’s the best and worst. Dean is honestly a great guy.” She found measuring cups and pointed her chin toward the fridge. “Could you get some butter out for me?”
“Sure.” I brought her the ingredients, enjoying watching her more and more. She hummed to herself and moved like she listened to a beat in her own mind. I wanted to learn more about this language, the reason she was so happy, and to ensure her and I were okay. “So, listen—”
“You hungry?” she asked. She pulled out eggs and texted someone on her phone. “Mack’s coming over.”
“Waffles?” I asked.
“Yeah? You want some?” She met my eyes but quickly looked away. “Oliver, Callum, you want some too?”
“You’re a fucking dream, Lo,” Callum yelled back.
My eye twitched. Callum had gotten real chummy with her, and while I knew he did that with everyone, I hated it. She seemed so relaxed around him, and I wanted to earn those smiles myself.
She laughed, and it was a twinkle of sorts. “Keep it in your pants, McHenry, I don’t fuck with athletes.”
“Goddamn you don’t, not footballers at least.” Dean chimed in. “No one in this house ever.”
She rolled her eyes before smiling at me. “Anyway, you want some?”
I nodded. I wasn’t hungry yet, but if I said no, I’d probably have to leave the kitchen, and I didn’t mind being here. It was better than feeling like shit on the couch. Plus, I still had to bring up the previous night. I coughed into my fist, my entire body on fire. “Was last night as bad as I’m imagining it in my head?”
She reached for a spatula to mix the mix and eggs in a bowl, and she paused. Tilting her head to the side, she stared at me with her eyes simmering. “When you said I was a goddess?”
“Shit.” I closed my eyes. “Yes. That.”
She laughed, and something soft landed on my arm. “I’m flattered, honestly. Thank you. No one has ever said such nice things about me, and it flustered me a little to be truthful, but it’s totally fine. To even things out, I think you’re fine as hell.”
She squeezed my forearm and let go, way too soon. “It’s great that we’re on the same page though. We’ll never be more than friends. And like, yeah, sometimes I want to stuff my face with all the fudge in the world. I am a slut for chocolate, but that doesn’t mean it’s good for me or that I’ll actually stuff my face with it. My mouth might water, but I’m not gonna shove it in my mouth.”
She’s talking about chocolate. The food. Not you.
My lips fell open, and she smacked her forehead. “Oh my god, I realize how that sounded. I’m not comparing you to chocolate. Well, I guess I am, but in a metaphor way. Not physical? God, this is the worst! I’m making it worse! Tell me to stop talking!” She threw her hands in the air and looked so ridiculous I laughed.
I laughed hard.
“Are you drunk?” I teased.
Her blush covered her face, but this time, she giggled too. “No! But wow, what a pair we are. We’re competing for first place in the worst award ceremony ever: the most awkward.”
I snickered. “Thank you for making me feel better about me. I didn’t compare you to chocolate at least.”
“Ugh.” She hit my hand with the spatula. “No waffles for you.”
“Oh, come on, I think I get some since I did call you a goddess.”
She growled. “You get one goddess comment a week, that is it. Yes, a great compliment that goes to my head, and I kinda like this confidence boost, but you cannot, in good measure, use that to convince me because it’ll work.”
“You’re a little conundrum.” I grinned down at her, my insides fucking floating from how much I enjoyed this conversation. “You’re sending me mixed signals here, Lo.”
Her eyes heated at the use of her nickname, and I made a mental note about it. It was filed away with the other inappropriate things I enjoyed about her.
“I’m cancelling this topic and moving on.”
“You can’t just cancel a topic.”
“Yes, I can and will.” She straightened her shoulders as she poured the batter into the grill. “Your grandma, where are we on the notarized situation?”
“I trust you,” I said, damn well feeling it in my bones. She might terrify me because of the power she held over me, but my gut told me to trust her. Yeah, I knew she’d never do anything to hurt my grandma or me. The only person who could get hurt was myself if I let myself focus on her and not football.
She nodded. “I appreciate that. I’ll still type up something formal so you have it just in case. Mack’s gonna help me come up with my plan, then I’d like to run it by you. I can also email it to you if you don’t have time. I know you’re regimented.”
“Give me your phone,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’ll text you so you have my number. Tell me when it’s ready, and I’ll find an open spot.”
“Perfect.” She handed her phone to me, our fingers brushing for a second. “I’m really excited about this, Monroe. I have a million ideas.”
“Can’t wait to hear them.” I meant it too. Her face lit up, and knowing that her ex was in her class and that her having the best project would stick it to him but also help my grandma was really a win-win.
I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and watched as she made waffle after waffle. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, not like last night. This one was pleasant. She’d ask me to grab something, and I did, and we found an easy rhythm of working together. In a weird way, being with her reminded me a lot of my grandma. The woman was stubborn and found joy in the simplest things, like going in the car wash or sweeping to an old record. Lorelei seemed like the person who would enjoy small things, the quiet moments.
“Alright, you heathens, waffles are done.” She stacked three of them on each plate, smothered them with butter and syrup, and set silverware to the side. Dean appeared first, his eyes as wide as the plates.
“Worth it. Thank you. I’m dying inside.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Thanks, Lo.” Oliver licked his lips as he grabbed his plate. Callum followed, moving twice as slow with his lazy gait.
Instead of grabbing his plate, he walked up to Lorelei and put an arm around her. “You’re an angel. Your face, your cooking. Your—”
“Knock that shit off right now, McHenry,” Dean warned.
“I’m complimenting your twin sister.” Callum rolled his eyes before winking at Lorelei. “Thank you.”
“None of you get used to this shit. Dean called C Dubs, which he gets once a year, and since I’ll be long gone by January, this won’t happen again.”
Long gone by January? Hearing those words were like a punch to the gut.
“What if I threatened you’ll be kicked out?” Dean asked, shoving a huge bite into his mouth so it came out muffled. “Blackmail you into food.”
“I’ll get Mom involved.”
“The fuck you will.”
Lorelei laughed and handed me a plate. “Eat, Monroe. You need some carbs to soak up that alcohol.”
“Right, thanks.” I took it from her, a previous comment she made coming back and changing my mood. I’ll be long gone by then.
She’d only been here a week, and her presence felt like part of the house already. Man, I needed to get it together. As we ate waffles and Lorelei and Dean gave each other shit the entire time, I made a plan. I had to avoid being at the house as much as possible because around her, my focus crumbled. She made me want to say screw my rules, which were to never get involved.
