“Seriously.”
I rolled my eyes. “So, what—did he bitch to you about the mess like he’s the house mother here? It is half your apartment, you wuss. Get a backbone.”
“First of all, it’s his condo and I pay him rent, which he gives me a big-ass break on, so as always, you’re wrong.”
“Oh, well, that makes—”
“Second of all, he didn’t have to bitch to me because we got home and witnessed your war zone at the same time, numb nuts. I called you a dipshit and took a shower, and by the time I got out it looked like this.”
“Geez, Jack, how long was your shower?”
“Shh.” He looked over his shoulder, then looked back at me with his face contorted like I was full-out screaming. “And don’t do that. Don’t turn this on me when you’re the one who keeps screwing up and it’s only been a week.”
“I know, I know.” I went around him and set my grocery bags on the counter. “You’re right and I’m sorry.”
His face screwed up again. “What?”
“Listen, I can fix this.” I felt a little bad for putting Jack in a bad position with Colin, especially now that I knew he was doing my brother a major favor by letting him live there for a cheaper rent. “Tell Colin that dinner will be ready at seven, there’s good wine, and I have news that will make him happy enough to forgive my little kitchen transgression.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Did you make Grandma’s meatballs just to butter us up?”
“Yep.”
“You tricky little shit, that might actually work.” He breathed in deeply and said, “I’ll tell him. But just quit being a screwup, okay?”
“Okay.” That actually stung a little. “But keep your asses in your rooms until seven.”
* * *
? ? ?
AT EXACTLY SEVEN o’clock, as I was standing in front of the island, trying my damnedest to open a bottle of wine, Colin came out of his room. He’d clearly dressed for dinner, wearing a button-down shirt and a really nice pair of pants, and I felt like a moron in the black-and-white polka-dot sundress that I’d worn to the “beach party” dance my junior year.
He looked hot and sophisticated as hell, and I was wearing the same thing I’d sported when I was first-based by Alex Brown in the front seat of his dad’s Camaro. I’d paired the dress with a black hair scarf and red lipstick, but I still felt like I was wearing the Ghost of Fashions Past.
Colin walked over, his eyes laughing, and he cleared his throat. “Need some help, Liv?”
“What kind of stupid corkscrew is this?” My entire face and neck were hot as I held up the sleek device that looked a little pornographic to me. “It’s like rich people want to make things difficult so the rest of us feel dumb.”
“Which rich people are you referring to?” He took the wine bottle from my hands, and two motions later it was open.
I rolled my eyes and turned my back to him, walking over to the stove. “The people who make idiotic corkscrews like that. And the pretentious boobs who buy them.”
That made him laugh and he followed me into the kitchen. “Did you just call me a pretentious boob?”
I gave him a duh look over my shoulder. “Look around you, oh pretentious one. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the chicks dig it. This is a nice-ass bachelor pad; I’d lose my shit if I came home with you and got to hop around on your pillow-soft million-dollar bed. But I just can’t imagine spending so much money on stuff.”
Shit, shit, shit. Yes, I’d really just mentioned hopping around on his bed.
His face didn’t change, thank God, and he stuck his hands in his pockets and said, “You don’t know how much I’ve spent. Maybe I got it all for free.”
I ignored that and said, “Your colander is sterling silver.”
“So I like nice things—sue me.” He tilted his head, and his eyes dropped to my back as he mused, “If I can afford quality, why would I buy garbage?”
“A plastic colander isn’t necessarily garbage. Who says silver is better?”
“Is that why you dented it?” He walked over to the cupboard on my right and took out three wineglasses. “Because it’s too pretentious for you?”
My head rolled back on my shoulders of its own accord and I stirred the sauce with a big spoon. “Of course you noticed the dent.”
But when I looked over at him, his eyes were on my back again. What the hell—did I have back-fat jiggle action going on or something? They stayed there as he said, “Of course I noticed, because I fucking have eyes, Liv. The dented colander was on the floor of the entryway when I got home.”