“Pahiatua!” I jumped in. “It’s a te reo Maori word. It means—well, kind of, because English translations of te reo are never exact—it means resting place for the gods. Atua is god. There are lots of gods in Maori culture, but I don’t know them all. Actually, Pahiatua has a really interesting history. It was home for a lot of Polish children during the Second World War. After the war, the USSR tried to, um, I think take them back ….” I was soupy on some of the finer details. “But the New Zealand government said no because all their homes were destroyed and nothing good awaited them in the Soviet Union.”
Too late, I worried it was a mistake not to save this fact for dinner.
Caroline frowned. She knew the only things I usually cared to memorize were fashion related. And Shakespeare, but that wasn’t on purpose, that was involuntary osmosis.
“When did you become New Zealand’s Wikipedia?” she asked.
Chase saved me. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we really do need to go, Floss, if we want to pick up dessert ingredients for tomorrow.”
I was about to ask why they weren’t going to one of Woodville’s cheesecake shops or Lia’s bakery, which Chase anticipated. “Caroline’s cousin Hannah can’t eat cheesecake, and the bakery is shut today and tomorrow. So Caroline’s going to make apple pie.”
It was my turn to stare at my friend like she’d grown another head.
“You can’t bake.”
“I’ve been learning.”
Now that would be a good video: Apple pie disaster (feat. Summer Holliday)! It was bound to be very visual, messy, and endearing.
I didn’t suggest filming this though.
Friends ≠ content.
Apple pie disaster (feat. Summer Holliday, who doesn’t know I’m banging her brother)!
That video would be a disaster, but the views would be excellent.
Chase pulled me from my thoughts. “Would you like us to get you some chocolate while we’re at the store, Lyssa?”
“I’m good. After cookie-gate, I bought enough chocolate chips to last me six months.”
Caroline’s hand flew to her clavicle and her jaw dropped. “Six months? Exactly how long are you planning on staying in New Zealand, Lyssa?”
“You should get going!” I said in a singsong voice. “I have to find Mike, and I have to plan an outfit for dinner tomorrow! Got to rush, much to do! See ya round!”
I kissed their cheeks, then pulled my scarf out from the cushions of the window seat and hightailed it out of there like my ass was on fire.
Caroline’s stare burned a hole in the back of my head.
Mike’s truck was in the drive, but he wasn’t in his armchair or his room, and the bathroom door was open. No Mike.
The counter was clean, and the dishes I’d left there this morning were done, which made me curse, because I hadn’t done them, despite trying to be better about that. So I did what I always did when I felt guilty about being a chaos goblin: I went around the house looking for mugs, and sure enough, I found three. Washing them drenched my Birth of Venus sweatshirt, so I took it off and draped it over the stool Mike kept handy in the kitchen to reach the tops of the cupboards—I’d put my chocolate chip tub up there at first, but Mike took one look at me teetering on the ladder and insisted it be moved down.
I was staring out the window over the sink as I dried the cups, looking at the garage without seeing it, when I remembered the house Mike had been building for Mini M.
Once out the door, I noticed a rhythmic thumping sound. It wasn’t a sound my brain had any existing neural pathways to make sense of, but I knew it wasn’t from painting a horse box.
The sight I found stopped me in my tracks.
A large red bag hung from the ceiling. Mike was shirtless, his hands wrapped in gloves, and he was beating the crap out of it.
My jaw dropped.
This man had been naked over me, under me, and right behind me. I’d seen and felt all of him. Yet seeing him like this made my mouth go dry. Mike was incredibly strong, but his muscle definition wasn’t apparent unless he was flexing or doing fun things like lifting me onto counters. I knew for a fact he was strong. But I’d never seen his strength like this before.
As his thick arms lashed and jabbed repeatedly, the movement reminiscent of a striking snake New Zealand didn’t have, I was mesmerized. A bead of sweat rolled down the channel of his back, and I licked my lips.
I was so busy ogling it took a few minutes before I noticed the ceaseless fury with which he was pelting the bag and his breathlessness, which suggested he’d been at it for a while.
