“Sometimes you’re funny, you know that?” She looks over her shoulder at me with a smile.
“And sometimes you’re sweet to me.”
That makes her laugh even more. “Yeah, okay.”
And then she’s continuing her way up the steps, and I return to the kitchen to prepare a Greek salad to go with our dinner.
Teagan emerges a few minutes later with damp hair and her matching black pajama tank top and shorts set, and the sight steals my breath for a moment.
How can someone be so pretty even in a mundane moment like this?
I shake my head as I continue making my plate, and Teagan does the same. We sit on the couch, which has become our preferred place to eat since her first night here, and Teagan throws onSingles in Saint Lucia, a reality TV show where a bunch of single people go on vacation together.
My plates are nearly cleared when the power goes out.
“No!” I yell.
“Quentin, are you afraid of the dark?” Teagan giggles.
I actually yelled because the power went out right as Tori was about to tell Ava that she slept with the guy Ava likes, but I’ll let her think that’s why instead of admitting I secretly find her reality TV wildly entertaining.
“I, uh, no. I just don’t want it to get too hot in here with the AC off,” I ramble, hoping it sounds believable.
“I’m sure we will manage, and that it will be back on soon,” she says with hope in her voice.
I take her plate and stack it on top of mine as I stand. “I’m going to clean up and light some candles.”
“What can I do?”
She narrows her eyes at me, reading me without me having to speak.
“I’m not acceptingnothingas an answer. The power’s out, and it’s only seven o’clock.”
“What do you have in mind?” I ask, scratching at the back of my head.
She tilts her head from side to side, pondering, then she perks up. “How about we do something fun?”
“As long as it doesn’t involve anything I need to eat, I’m in.”
Her mouth pops open in surprise. “Fuck you.”
“You keep trying. Platonic, remember?” I wink at her before walking toward the kitchen, her response a throaty laugh as she makes her way to the stairs.
I’ve been meaning to get a generator, and now I’m mentally kicking myself for putting it off. So, candles it is. As I’m lighting a few candles to put around the kitchen, Teagan returns and plops a box down on the kitchen table.
A five-hundred-piece puzzle of a mountain, to be exact.
“A puzzle?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
“What’s wrong with a puzzle? Lots of people do this for a hobby.”
“Nothing. I’m just surprised you want to try it because most people find it boring.”
“Well, we’re going to find out if that’s true,” she says, dedicated to trying it out.
I walk over to the living room, find my Bluetooth speaker, and turn it on. Scrolling through my playlist, I land on the one I’ve titled Teagan’s Mix.
It’s a playlist I’ve started and have compiled with all the songs she’s shown me since we met. I get the feeling she expresses herself through music, and as someone who wants to know her better, I’ve been taking any crumbs I can get.
