a small town—every single person in town wanted to know every detail about everyone's life.
"Life." She paused as if reflecting, then continued, "All right, I'm fine, Abby. Go home and get some rest." She was thankful when Abby didn't argue with her, because all she wanted was to be alone and get a handle on the overwhelming playback scenes of her and Drew on display in her head. Her brain was flooded with pictures of them at the lake, driving around in Drew's truck, sitting on the tailgate watching the stars, or sneaking out of her dad's house for a midnight kiss. She used her fingers to wipe away one tear that had fallen down her cheek and forced herself to focus on work. Work was something she could control, unlike her relationship with Drew. Right then, she needed to focus on something she had power over.
It was close to 6 p.m. when she made it home, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd been so nervous. She grabbed her apron just as Tango barked, making her jump. "I know, Tango, and this is crazy. It's just Drew. I shouldn't be this nervous." She turned her radio on and did the only thing that could calm her: she cooked.
Amanda was in the middle of rolling dough when she heard the knock on the front door telling her Drew was there. "Come in, I'm in the kitchen." She laughed as Tango ran toward the front door when Drew walked in.
"What smells so good in here?" She looked up from her dough, his voice bringing every cell in her body to life, and when she saw him, she forgot to breathe. If she thought this afternoon's look had been enough to send her up in flames, seeing him in a tight-fitting pair of dark blue jeans and a black T-shirt that clung to every one of his muscles was doing things to her she hadn't felt in a long time.
Tango's bark reminded her Drew had asked her a question, and she hadn't answered him yet. She wiped her hands on her apron and walked around the counter to the fridge. "Oh, I made lasagna and some stuffed chicken. Oh, it could be the cookies or the pie, too." She grabbed two beers out of the fridge and handed one to him.
"Are you nervous, Amanda?" She swore his voice was huskier somehow. God, her hormones were all over the place. She was nervous all right—not about him being there, but about her jumping him.
"No, no…. Why would you say that?" she asked, hoping her voice wasn't betraying her. When she saw the glint of humor in his eyes, she knew she hadn't managed to fool him.
He circled his hand to the copious amount of food placed on her kitchen counter. "You always used to cook when you were nervous."
Of course he would remember that about her. As if having him in her home didn't make her edgy enough, he had to remind her just how well he knew her. "Right, I forget you know everything about me." Most people would argue that she was exaggerating with that statement, but she wasn't. Drew really did know everything about her, which made letting go of him all but impossible because she knew everything about him, too. That type of connection didn't just fade away, no matter how hard she tried.
"Are you going to eat all of this?" he asked with a smirk, making her giggle like a school girl.
She glanced at him and smiled. "Oh, no, I'll probably end up freezing some of it. Are you hungry? There's more than enough if you want something to eat. It's the least I can do."
He looked surprised by her question, and that hurt her more than she cared to admit. "That lasagna looks really good."
Feed him she could do, and hopefully, she could manage not to sound stupid doing it. She grabbed a plate as she spoke to him. "Sit down, I'll heat you a plate."
"You don't have to do that, Mandy." She respected that about him. He didn't expect her to serve him or to be at his beck and call. If she let him, she knew he would feed himself, clean up after himself and he would make sure she wouldn't have to lift a finger to clean after him. But she loved taking care of people, especially with food.
"I
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley