“I wasn’t jealous,” he grumbled as he joined me on the concrete.
Such a baby. “Whatever you say, Kash. What do you say to a pseudo lock-out night? Neither of us are locked out, but I’m going to be bored . . . I’ll even let you pick out the movie this time.”
He immediately stopped sucking on his lip ring and I frowned. “Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand and began leading me to his apartment, but I pulled back.
“No way, crazy. You finished off the Ben and Jerry’s in your apartment the other night. My place tonight.”
“I have the better TV.”
“But I’m Rachel.”
His head jerked back and his shoulders scrunched up as he looked at me like he was lost. “What—what does that have to do with anything?”
Oh, good question. “I’m not sure. Give me a bit to come up with an answer. But for now, it means you’ll let me get my way.”
Kash’s eyes narrowed and he sucked in a deep breath, but then he shut his mouth and shook his head. “I was going to say something that probably would’ve resulted in me getting slapped right now . . . but it would also mean you wouldn’t cook pancakes for me anymore.”
“Probably smart to keep your mouth shut then.”
“Unfortunately.” He sighed. “All right, lead the way to the ice cream. I don’t want to look like I’m Photoshopped anymore and you really need an ass.”
I slapped him.
Hard.
9
Rachel
YOU EVER HAVE that feeling when you know someone is in the room with you, even though you should be alone?
Yeah. I was having it right now.
I kept my eyes closed and tried to keep my breathing steady, but I was on the verge of a full-blown Rachel freak-out before I caught the scent of cinnamon. Cracking one eye open, I saw Kash sitting on the edge of my bed just staring at me with an amused expression.
“Can I help you?” I mumbled against the pillow.
“I’m hungry and want pancakes.”
“You want . . . What are you, five?! Make your own. I even bought the easy-make pancakes last weekend. All you have to do is add water.” I rolled over and groaned. “Seven thirty? Kash, we didn’t get back from work until after one. You have got to stop waking me up so early. And how are you even in here?”
He looked like he was fighting a smile and his eyes kept flashing up above mine. “Candice let me in.”
Trying to act like I didn’t notice where his eyes kept going, and like I wasn’t flipping out because I was sure my hair looked like a hot mess, I slowly brought my arm up to brush back the hair from my face when my hand hit something that tugged at my forehead. “What the hell?” I tried to look straight up and even leaned my head back to try to follow whatever was at the very top of my forehead. I saw a blue tip and grabbed at it before yanking it off and holding it in front of my eyes. “A Nerf dart?!”
Kash shamelessly pulled up a Nerf gun and waved it at his side. His eyes slid back up to my forehead and a hard laugh burst from his chest. Rolling back, he fell off the bed and landed with a dull thump on the floor.
“What?” I snapped, and scrambled out of bed. As I made my way to the bathroom, I was hit once in the butt and once on my calf by more darts. “You’re such a child, Kash!” Flipping on the light, I blinked against the brightness before focusing on the mirror. A loud gasp filled the small room. “Logan Kash Hendricks! What did you do?”
He was still cracking up as he got to his feet and came to stand behind me. “I just had to make sure it was on there real good. So I tested it a few times . . . you’re a really heavy sleeper, by the way.”
“There is a hickey on my forehead!”
His body was shaking from the laughter he was trying to keep in now.
“It’s not funny! This better be gone by the time we go to work tonight.”
“Don’t be mad, Sour Patch.” He planted his chin at the top of my head and brushed at my bangs. “You have those, they’ll cover it. Can we have pancakes now?”
My eyes went wide and my jaw dropped as I continued to stare at him in the mirror. “No! Go make them yourself.”
He frowned and brought the toy gun up in front of us. “I’ll let you shoot me.”
I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment. Pancakes sounded really good right now. With a heavy sigh, I held my hand out. “Give me the gun.” As soon as it was in my hand, I went around collecting the three darts and put them back in with the other three still in there before aiming it right at his forehead.
Kash smiled, closed his eyes, and took all six darts like a champ. When I was done he had little red marks all over his forehead, and though I knew his would be gone in a few minutes, I felt like he’d gotten it worse than I did.
“Feel better?”
“A little.” I handed the gun back to him and turned toward my door. “Let’s go make pancakes.” I’d barely hit the kitchen when I realized I didn’t hear him behind me. “And don’t even think about shooting me again, or you’ll be on your own for breakfast!”
Whirling around, I saw him lower the gun that had been aimed at me and, with a pathetic frown, let it drop onto the couch.
I gave him the silent treatment while he pulled out the skillet and mix and I began whisking together the batter. I really wasn’t mad at him—okay, that’s not exactly true; I still couldn’t believe he’d given me a hickey on my forehead with a freaking suction-cup dart. But it was hard to stay mad at Kash when we worked together in the kitchen. He always found reasons to brush up against me, and whenever I thought he wasn’t looking, I’d take my time studying what I could see of his half sleeves and usually made my way up to his full lips. When I saw him sucking on that lip ring, my belly started heating and my mouth went dry. Every. Time. It never failed. So how was I supposed to be mad when I was currently finding it difficult to remember why I kept us as just friends?