A new, much more pleasant, scent hits me on the way to the living room.
Pizza.
“Hey, perfect timing. Hold these.” Sophia hands me a stack of food boxes so she can peel off her boots.
She still has on her glittery shirt from this morning’s rodeo events, it catches the lights from the kitchen when she turns and takes the top two containers from the stack.
“Is this mine?” I squint at her skeptically. It isn’t often she shows random acts of kindness.
“Of course. You cleaned out my trailer.” She waves her hand in a broad circle. “Even though the tack room was still trashed.” She pats my arm before heading towards her room. “I know you did your best, you filthy animal.”
“Yea, whatever. I’m not sorting that rat’s nest. It’s your shit.” I barely manage to avoid her snaking out in an attempt to snag my pizza. “No take backs,” I growl, putting my body between her and my newest prized possession.
“Speaking of.” She pauses with her palm on the handle. “Val said you need to get your skinny ass up there to the bar.” Her long nails flick into the air. “Her words, not mine.” Her laugh carries as she slams her door.
Huh?
“What the hell does that mean?” I yell loud enough for her to hear me.
“I told her you can sometimes function if I nag!” she calls back.
Heading into my room, I prop open the top of the box and pull out a slice before dropping the rest onto my cluttered desk.
Val wants me up there? Does that mean she needs my help? Like, a job?
The bell rings when I push inside. Familiar smells of beer, pool table felt, and fried foods grab me like a lasso and drag me further towards the bar in the back.
A loud group is throwing chips and laughing while one of the guys takes a shot from a very well endowed girl next to him.
It’s distracting.
I catch a glimpse of Val’s maroon tinted hair over the swinging divider to the kitchen.
Well, if she needs help, I should go.
Startled, she looks up at me with wide green eyes. “What are you doing, Sawyer?” Her brows knit as she returns to measuring out handfuls of french fries into a basket.
“Soph said I was supposed to come up.” I shrug, leaning my hip against the counter and crossing my arms. “Here I am.”
Her mouth curls at the corner into a smirk as she faces me. “So I said ‘jump’ and you just started hoppin’ your way here?”
My shoulders rise and fall again. “Ribbit.”
She stares at me for a moment before she snorts with a short laugh. “Alright, froggy. Let’s see how much practicing you’ve been doing.” Pointing to the dough tubs, she reaches into the bag of frozen potatoes for another batch.
Shit. Did Soph tell her I’ve been working on figuring this out?
I gotta get her back for this one.
Reaching for the tub, I glance over just in time to see Val’s iridescent eyes narrow.
Damn, that look isharsh.
“Sorry,” I mumble, diving for the sink.
Showing off my clean fingers, she makes a show of inspecting again, then drops the fries in the hot oil.
“Good first step.” Grabbing a second plastic tub, she nods to the dough. “Alright, dazzle me.”
