Avoiding her is pointless because she’s living with my sister. I’m going to see her more than I’m ready for … and I don’t know how to feel about that yet.
Is her hair longer? Is the fire inside of her still burning bright? What’s new? Is her favorite movie stillIce Princess?
My mind spirals through questions effortlessly, like my brain’s main function is to think of her. It’s like I spilled a glass of memories and they’re flooding my senses. God, she makes me feel so … out of control.
Would she still feel the same in my hands? What about her lips when they melt into mine?
Stop. Shit. This is not supposed to happen.
Forcing myself back to the task at hand, I quickly shoot a text back to Maeve.
Me: Yeah, I’m down. LMK when you’re free. Get settled in okay?
She answers right away.
Maeve: Pretty much every day until classes start. And, yeah, almost.
Me: Is it just going to be us? Or is your roommate joining us?
Maeve: Don’t be a smart-ass. You know her name and how she feels about you, and I’m not subjecting her to lunch with you, dickhead.
Me: Oh, yeah, it’d be torture, I’m sure.
Maeve: You get no say since you’re the one who ruined everything to begin with. Honestly, you’re lucky I still identify as your sister.
Me: You don’t have a choice.
Maeve: I most certainly do, you twat.
Me: Jeez, chill.
Me: She still hates me that much, huh?
Maeve: Just don’t try to stir the pot, okay? I know you.
Me: I am always on my best behavior.
Maeve: Just like you were when you acted like the world’s biggest ass and broke her heart. Look here, Mason. It took a lot to get her here, so don’t go scaring her off.
Me: She’s too stubborn for that. She would stay here just to spite me.
Maeve: Well, you know what they say about a scorned woman.
Me: They’re fiery and hot?
Maeve: Eww. Please stop.
Me: Let me know when you want lunch. I can make you something here. Got a few new recipes under my belt since the last time I cooked for you.
Maeve: Send me menu options, and I’ll place my order.
I heart her message and shove my phone back in my pocket. I guess I have to put together a menu for the goddamn princess to pick from. She should just feel lucky that I’m cooking for her at all. I don’t do that for just anyone.
Well … aside from my team every Sunday for family dinner at our place. It’s a tradition we started my freshman year, mostly so I can force a bunch of test subjects to try my food and recipes.
If there’s a place where I feel most comfortable in the world, aside from an ice rink, it’s in the kitchen.
Which reminds me that I need to run to the store to get some stuff for tomorrow’s Sunday night dinner. I’m making burgers, pasta salad, and lava cake cookies for dessert.
