“It’s fine, I promise.”
I begin to help clear the counters, and as she taps the speaker, music fills the space again. We work mostly in silence, other than me telling her where things usually go. When we’re done, I grab a beer for me and one of the canned cocktails Logan told me she liked for her, and we head into the living room.
“Pizza should have been here ten minutes ago,” I say, checking the app.
“I’m sure it’s coming.” I hand her the can. “Thank you,” she says.
“It’s no problem. Figured you were probably parched after all the singing.”
“No, I meant thank you for stocking the pantry and fridge with things I like.” She opens the can and takes a long sip.
“Oh, good, so you saw the snacks?”
“I did, and you don’t have to keep doing nice things for me. At this rate, I’m never going to be able to repay you.”
A knock on the door echoes through the room, and I jump up and grab it. The man hands me the box of pizza, and I slide him a twenty dollar bill. “Thanks man; have a good night.”
I turn back to Wren, carrying our dinner inside. “You don’t have to repay me. I like helping out my friends,” I assure her, setting down the pizza box and flipping open the lid.
“Can I at least send you money for the pizza? I was the one trying to make you dinner.”
“Not a chance.” I grab a slice and take a bite. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s hot!” I say around a swig of beer.
She giggles and blows on her slice but waits to eat it. “So, how’s the whole CEO thing going?”
“Awful.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
She blows on her slice again and then attempts a bite.
“Lacey and Poppy mentioned the guys were worried about you,” she says a little hesitantly. “Do they know what’s going on?”
“Nah. They don’t want to be bored with my family and work shit. They both have enough going on in their own lives.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
I shrug. “Maybe not, but usually by the time I get home from work I don’t want to rehash it all. I’d rather pretend like it doesn’t exist.”
“Oh, sorry if I overstepped. If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.” She bites her lip, looking down at her plate.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I like talking about it with you.”
Her breath catches, and her eyes find mine. I do like talking to her. Something about being near her calms me. Iwant to open up to her completely and let her get to know every part of me.
“I don’t know what your parents are like, but my dad has always been really hard to please. I’ve spent my whole life chasing the feeling of him being proud of me, and it’s never happened. The closest I ever got to that was when my grandfather was alive. He always made sure to tell me he was proud of me. He and I were a lot alike,” I explain.
“It sounds like you were really close with him. When did he pass away?”
“Last December.”
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“It’s okay. He was old and not in the best health.”
“Is he why you volunteered to take over as CEO?”
