He taps the table again before standing and walking away. I watch him go. I might know what to cook for Emory tonight, but I’m confused about everything else. Like whether or not I have actual genuine feelings for Emory that go beyond wanting to fuck him. And whether or not Casey fancies Emory. In fact, Casey is even more of a mystery than he was twenty minutes ago. The thing is, I like mysteries, so I’m definitely going to find a way to figure him out.
For Emory’s sake.
Of course.
8
EMORY
My stomach flutters as Auggie arrives at my flat, carrying two reusable carrier bags. I remember the softness of his lips against my cheek, coupled with the ticklish brush of his beard. I want to know what it would be like to kiss him, yet I’m also looking forward to snuggling with Casey later. I need to get a grip and figure out what I want. Or who I want.
“Hi,” Auggie says. “I’ve got everything I need to cook, so point me towards your kitchen, and I’ll get started.”
“You don’t have to,” I say.
“I want to. We’re on a date, remember?”
My face flushes with heat. I dip my chin. “I remember. The kitchen is through there.” I point at the door.
“Great. Why don’t you relax, and I’ll tell you when it’s ready.”
“We don’t have a table. It’s a small flat.”
I should win an award for stating the obvious. He’s standing in my flat. He knows the sitting room has barely enough room for a sofa and coffee table, and he’s about to find out that the kitchen isn’t big enough to swing a cat in.
“No problem. I’m fine with balancing my plate on my knees if you are,” Auggie says.
“I’m sorry. It won’t be very—” I snap my mouth shut.
“Romantic?”
My face gets hotter as I nod.
“I’m sure I can make it romantic if that’s what you want?”
Is it what I want? Our date is supposed to be fake. All we need to do is ensure we’re cuddling on the sofa when Casey gets home so I can find out if he’s interested in me. But I don’t want to skip the rest. I want to spend time with Auggie so I can get to know him without a textbook between us.
There I go again.
Do I want Casey to like me, or do I want Auggie to want me to be his real boyfriend? The truth is, I want both.
“Think about it,” Auggie says before going into the kitchen.
“Do you want help?” I call.
“Nope. Relax. I won’t be long.”
What am I supposed to do to relax? Okay, it’s ridiculous that I can’t think of something. This is my flat. I sit on the sofa, drumming my fingers against my thighs. I could read. Is reading on a date too nerdy? I could play a console game, but what if I’m halfway through a race or a level when the food is ready? I could watch TV, but that might look like I’m not interested. In the end, I get up and stand in the kitchen doorway.
“I told you to relax,” Auggie says.
“I am relaxing. I know you don’t want help, but I thought we could talk.”
“Get to know each other better?”
I nod.
“I’d like that.”
