“I remember her,” I say, because Casey has complained a time or two about her roommate from hell.
The corners of Casey’s mouth rise in a ghost of a smile, but her face is too haunted for any real happiness to shine through. She’s staring at the well-worn dirt trail under our feet. “God, it was miserable being in the dorm with her. So I started spending more and more time with Fiona. She was a junior with an off-campus apartment. I felt so grown up having this place with her that started to feel like ours. I slept there every night, we would pick out random shit from Target to decorate the place, and I became friends with all her friends.”
“What happened?” I ask when Casey trails off.
“I lost myself in her. I wasted two years of college studying the wrong thing because she thought I could do better than make ‘silly little graphics online’ and became an engineering major like her. I couldn’t even remember what my favorite foods were because her favorites became my favorites. I just loved her so much and wanted to make her happy that I gave and gave and gave. In the end, it didn’t matter. After she graduated, she got a job on the West Coast. I had two years left of school and swore we could make long distance work.”
“But it didn’t?” I guess.
“Didn’t even get to try. She broke up with me before she moved because she wanted to start fresh in her new life.”
“Fuck.”
Casey nods. “I did everything I could to make Fiona love me—to choose me—but it wasn’t enough. So, I get it, I know how it feels to give everything to another person and lose them, but I promise you, you will fall in love again. I did.”
This one I know—Aaron Johnson—they started dating a couple weeks after my disastrous coming out to my family. I was so happy because I thought it’d mean Nina would stop making weird comments about Casey being “too friendly” with me when it was just Casey being Casey. She dated Aaron for two years, and they even talked about getting engaged.
But even though she fell in love again, does that make her right? I know logically a person is capable of falling in love multiple times. But a small part of me is afraid I’m the exception. I’ve never felt the same easy connection or chemistry with anyone but Nina.
Except with Casey.
The thought is so sudden and unexpected, it halts me in my tracks.
And oh.Oh shit.
Chapter Six
Casey scrapes the bottom of her plate, collecting the last of the pasta sauce with her final bite of chicken parm. Her lips settle around her fork, and her eyes flutter shut with a moan.
I squeeze my legs together and divert my gaze.
“This is seriously amazing, Dakota.”
“It’s nothing.” I fiddle with twirling my fork around my pasta.
She glares at me. “You spent the last five hours in the kitchen whipping up this masterpiece. It’snotnothing.”
A blush creeps into my cheeks. After our talk on the hike, I asked Casey if we could stop at Meijers. I love to cook, but rarely have time during the school year to make elaborate meals from scratch. And with my mind spiraling, I needed an activity that kept my hands busy and my mind distracted.
I whipped up some chicken Parmesan with homemade spaghetti noodles and pasta sauce with a side salad. Nothing too fancy; it definitely didn’t take me five hours, but it was time-consuming enough to kill the afternoon,and there’s the added bonus of treating Casey to a nice meal to show my appreciation for everything she’s done for me this weekend. Plus, it feels good to cook for another person again. Nina was obsessed with my creations and always begged me to prepare our dinners more often.
There’s a low groan in Casey’s throat as she sets the spotless fork down on her empty plate. “Sogood.”
Thank god Casey is done eating. Those noises were killing me. I’m not sure how much more I could take before jumping her across this dining room table, but damn it. No. I can’t think like that.
“Are you done?” Casey points to my plate while standing. She’s wearing a lightweight lime green zip-up hoodie with black boy shorts. Her tawny blonde hair pulled up into a claw clip.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
Casey takes my plate, and I stare at the sway of her hips as she goes. Her boy shorts are sculpted perfectly to her firm ass, and I take in an eyeful as she bends to load the dishwasher. I lick my lips and reach for my wine, my mouth suddenly dry.
Oh, my gosh. I need to stop. I glance around the table for something to do and spot the salad bowl. I reach for it when Casey rips it from my grip.
“Nah uh uh,” she admonishes. “You cooked. I clean.”
I attempt to stand to help anyway when she pauses. She cocks one eyebrow, points at the seat, and says in that same sexy commanding voice from last night, “Sit.”
Andyes, ma’am. I sat.
