Full Measures - Page 11/88

I ruffled his hair and took his backpack, amazed it was already three. “Homework?”

His expression fell. “Yeah.” His face puckered up like he’d tasted something sour. “Do I have to?”

“Yep! You have hockey in an hour, so get it done.” I poured him a glass of orange juice and set it on the counter before putting away the groceries.

Two grimaces and three broken pencil tips later, Gus finished his homework, and I finished making a sandwich. “Hey, take this up to Mom if you’re done.”

“Gotta scram!” He snatched the plate and ripped through the upstairs in a flurry of activity. Gus had two speeds: full throttle and asleep.

I cracked open a bottle of water and congratulated myself on a great grocery trip.

The door slammed, accompanied by the swift click of heels on the floor. April sashayed into the kitchen, dropping her backpack, purse, keys, and phone on the island I had just cleared off. I bit back my immediate need for her to clean off her crap. Hey, was that purse new?

“Look who I found outside,” she sang, arching her perfect eyebrows at me. She took the cold bottle of water out of my hand and headed up the back stairs.

Josh Walker stood in my kitchen, leaning against the counter in jeans, a CU hoodie, and backward black hat. Holy shit, he looked freaking edible. How had I missed how hot he was the last two times I’d seen him? And what was he doing in my kitchen?

“Hey, Ember.” He smiled.

“Josh.” I was unsure I could say anything else and not jump him, but I went ahead. “What are you up to?” I put the island between us, for his own safety.

“Just grabbing Gus for practice.” His smile was lethal, a mix of boyish charm and pure sex. Sex? Like you’d even know. What the hell is wrong with you? You have a boyfriend!

“That’s . . . um . . . really nice of you.”

“I figured your mom wouldn’t be up for it yet, and Gus has been itching to get back out there.” His understanding softened me even further. It was one thing to lust after him, but quite another to find myself . . . liking him as a person, not just a hot body. After about a minute of me staring wordlessly, he raised his eyebrows in question. “So, what’s for dinner?” he asked, motioning to the pile of paper bags I’d accumulated.

“Um . . .” My mind raced through the ingredients I’d bought. What was I going to make? Chicken? I didn’t buy any. Fajitas? No steak. I sighed in exasperation and smiled. “Cookies.”

A laugh tumbled from his lips.

“I went shopping, I swear!” I laughed, holding my head in my hands. “I bought all the food everyone likes, but nothing we actually needed!” The laughter wouldn’t stop, and my shoulders shook as I let go. “We have coffee creamer, but no coffee, and tortillas but no cheese.”

Josh’s laughter mingled with mine. He reached over and pulled my hand from my face, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s good to see you smile, Ember.” The nerves in my skin short-circuited where he touched me.

My smile slipped. Was it too soon? Am I allowed to laugh? As if on cue, Gus scrambled in from the garage, toting a bag of gear bigger than he was. “Ready, Coach?”

“You got it, little man,” Josh answered, slipping his hand from mine. He sent me a smile that made me forget my own name. “Later, Ember.” Good thing he reminded me.

I nodded, doing my best not to look too freaking captivated by him. “Seat belt on, Gus, okay?”

Josh didn’t mock or patronize me, just nodded his head once. “You hear that, Gus? Seat belt’s on you.”

The door shut behind them, and I whipped out my cell phone, needing my anchor and a quick reminder that I wasn’t allowed to think naughty thoughts about Josh Walker.

Ember: Hey, honey, what are you up to tonight?

Riley: Not much, just missing you.

A familiar sweet pressure settled in my chest.

Ember: Feel like springing me tonight? I think I’m ready to rejoin civilization.

A few minutes passed before his reply buzzed my phone.

Riley: Man, babe, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have come up to Breck.

Ember: You’re back in Breckenridge?

Riley: Up here with a bunch of the guys, thinking of having a party.

I didn’t know how to respond to that one, so I grabbed another bottle of water. A few swallows later, my phone buzzed again.

Riley: Party is on. Sorry, babe, or I’d come down, but I can’t leave these animals with the cabin.

Riley was having a frat party. A freaking frat party.

Ember: Don’t worry about it.

Riley: Love you!

I shook my head, not bothering to respond. I shot Sam a quick text, but she was up in Denver for the night with her mom.

A freaking frat party. I grabbed the nearest sponge and tore into the mess that littered the kitchen. He couldn’t even be bothered with me. Weren’t we supposed to have the perfect relationship? Everything had to be pure and white on paper for his “future political career.” Where was Mr. Perfect tonight? The kitchen counters received an angry bleaching, and then I attacked the cabinets before moving onto the floors, the refrigerator, and even the shelves of the pantry. No surface was safe from my wrath.

Sweat beaded my forehead by the time I finished almost three hours later, throwing the sponges and gloves into the sink with a little too much zeal. I still didn’t feel better.

“It smells like lemons.” Gus grimaced, his sneakers squeaking on the wet floor as he hauled his hockey gear back to the laundry room. Mom trained him well.