“Fridge it,” I said. “We had Pub subs for lunch, so I’ll be hungry again in about... a thousand years.”
He paused on his way to the kitchen. “Maybe I should order Pub subs for Thanksgiving this year and call it a day.”
“The weird part of that scenario isn’t the Pub subs. It’s the thought of younotcooking on a holiday,” I said.
“Hey, now. I’m more than happy to get takeout on Arbor Day.” He stepped around a heap of books, and when he disappeared out of sight, I hid the sexier bras and underwear beneath the nearest couch.
Two weeks had passed since the movie marathon, and it seemed as if every time Alex or Greyson came over they had food with them: mini beef Wellington, chocolate chip cookies, enchiladas, half a duck, and other foods I didn’t know the names of but that tasted like magic.
When Alex returned to the living room after putting the lasagna away, he found a clear spot on the floor and sat down opposite me. Between us was a pile of shoes, two cardboard boxes, and a collection of pens from various business offices around Palm Beach.
He picked up a pen from the pile. “Wow,” he said. “I think you have a pen-hoarding problem. Should I have written one of those intervention letters?”
I balled up a bleach-stained T-shirt and threw it at his face. “Pens sparkjoy, Alex.”
After throwing the T-shirt back at me, he inspected the pen in his hands. “Little Smiles Dental,” he read. “Why do you have a pen from a pediatric dental office?”
I swiped the pen from his hands and tried to look offended. “You don’t see me walking into your place and judging your... spatula collection.”
“That’s because I only own three spatulas.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Your spice collection, then.”
Alex clapped a hand over his chest. “Now that was personal, Florida Girl. A chef can’t have too many spices.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve only got two.”
“And they’re salt and pepper. Essential, but not very creative.” Alex leaned back on his hands and swept his gaze over the mess of my living room. “I can’t believe you put decluttering on your list.”
Why did everyone have a problem with decluttering? This would change my life; that was what the book promised, anyway. I wasn’t sure exactly what was supposed to change, but whatever it was, I wanted it. “You sound like Nina.”
“Who is conveniently not here,” Alex said.
“Very convenient,” I said.
Alex had that almost smile on his face, the one that made it look like he might burst into laughter at the slightest provocation. I turned my attention to the pile of shirts beside me, suddenly aware that outside of carpooling and work, we hadn’t been alone together since the morning of my failed run.
“I need to ask you something serious,” Alex said. I looked up at him to find that his almost smile had disappeared from his face.
“Yeah, sure.” The possibilities of what he might ask filled my mind all at once. I held tighter to the shirt in my hands, unable to focus on whether it sparked joy or not.
Alex sat up straight, then leaned forward, and I held my breath as he drew nearer. His eyes were locked on mine again, and I felt I should look away, but couldn’t. And then, Alex moved quickly, pulling something from the shoe pile and holding it up between our faces. “Where did you get a pair of bedazzled Crocs, and why haven’t I seen you wear them before?”
I snatched the shoe from his hands and hugged it to my chest, feeling the rapid pace of my heart beneath it. “A Christmas present from Nina. She bedazzled them herself.” I put the shoe on my foot and lifted my leg in the air. “And I don’t wear them because Nina says these ooze sex appeal, and I don’t think the world is ready for that.”
“I see what you mean,” Alex said.
I took off the bedazzled Croc and swatted him on the shoulder. “You had me worried you were actually going to ask me something serious.”
Alex grinned at me as he rubbed his shoulder. “What did you think I was going to ask?”
I opened my mouth, fumbling for something to say that wasn’t related to kissing, or being alone together, or how my heart had nearly stopped when his face was only a few inches from mine, but finally landed on “I thought you were going to ask which Pub sub is my favorite.”
“That is a serious question,” Alex said.
I stared down at the bedazzled Croc against my chest and closed my eyes.Joy.Definitely. When I opened my eyes, Alex was watching me with the same expression he made whenever he got lost in cooking, and I wondered what it could mean. That I was difficult? A problem to be solved? I tossed the Croc into the keep pile with its mate and glared at Alex’s raised eyebrows. “They obviously spark joy. Just look at them,” I said. “And my favorite Pub sub is the chicken tender one, by the way.”
After explaining the ins and outs of the KonMari method, I put Alex in charge of maintaining the keep, donate, and trash piles. Whenever he passed me an item, he’d give me exactly two seconds to decide if it sparked joy or not. I’d toss the item back with my answer, and he’d set it in the appropriate pile. The clothing was easy enough, until he spotted the bras and underwear I’d stowed away under the couch, so I exiled him to the kitchen to make margaritas while I sorted through them.
