Crazy (The Gibson Boys #4)(35)

Navie grins. “Maybe you could put a little touch on this place.”

“Why? I’ll be leaving soon.”

The door opens, and Peck walks in. He gives Navie a little wave and then sets his sights on me. His head bows as he searches my eyes.

There’s a minuscule amount of awkwardness hanging in the air between us. If there’s anything in life that I don’t want, it’s for things to be weird with Peck.

“Don’t,” I say.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t ask me what I’m making for dinner.” I hold up two packets of hamburger. “I’ll cook with you, but not for you. At least not every night,” I say, correcting myself.

He laughs. “I can deal with that.”

Navie giggles and heads for the door. “You two are adorable together.” She stops at the doorway. “You should come to Crave tonight, Dylan.”

I glance at Peck. He’s watching me carefully.

“Okay,” I say slowly. “Um, what time?”

Navie’s grin gets wider. “Whenever. The fun usually gets started around nine thirty or so. Wouldn’t you say, Peck?”

“Yup. That’s usually when I get there,” he says with a rogue grin. “Talked to Machlan today?”

“Why?” Navie asks.

“Just getting a feeling as to his temperament today. Wondering what I can get away with.”

Navie laughs, turning her attention to me. She jams a thumb in Peck’s direction. “And he calls me a troublemaker.”

“So nine thirty?” I ask.

“Does that work for you? I mean, you can come whenever, but it’ll be pretty quiet before then,” she says.

“Yup. That’s fine. I have no plans. Obviously,” I tell her.

She gives me a thumbs-up before opening the door and walking out. Somehow, the room gets smaller without her. When it’s just Peck and me together.

“I got groceries,” I say, stating the obvious. But it seems like as good of an icebreaker as any. “I don’t know what you like, so I got the basics.”

He takes an apple out of a bag and tosses it in the air. He catches it easily. “I like about anything. But you didn’t have to do this. I could’ve got groceries. I should’ve, huh?”

A ripple of uncertainty passes through his eyes.

“No,” I insist. “It’s not your job to feed me. I actually enjoy grocery shopping. Is that weird?”

“Does this have anything to do with that Have Line thing?”

I laugh. “It’s HAS Line, and sometimes it does. But I like to buy food even when I’m not angry or sad.” I take out a jar of peanut butter and set it on the table. “I think it’s a control thing, to be honest.”

“Control of the menu?”

“No. More like that I have my shit together. I can buy groceries. There was a time in my life, my late teens, when I couldn’t just walk in the kitchen and get an apple. Things were hard. And now that I can go and buy whatever I want—within reason, of course—it feels good. I think that’s why I like it.”

He moves across the room until he’s standing next to me. I swear that having him this close messes with the electricity in my brain because everything misfires. All I can smell is the scent of his cologne. All I can feel is the electricity sizzling between us. All I can taste is that almost-kiss last night.

Damn it.

Lifting the packages of meat, he carries them to the fridge. “I will tell you a little secret.”

That you regret not kissing me too?

“What’s that?” I ask, holding my breath. He’s not going to mention not kissing me, that I know, but as long as he doesn’t answer, there’s hope.

“I’m actually a decent cook.” He shuts the refrigerator door. “At least, I think I am. No one else may like it, but I do.”

“And you’re telling me this because you’re fixing dinner for me tonight?” I tease. “You sweet thing.”

He laughs. “Not tonight. I need time to consider the menu. Besides, we’re going to Crave tonight, and I don’t want to have to rush dinner. Perfection takes time.” He winks.

I try to play off his charm. It would be really easy to dance a little jig, but I don’t. Because I’m an adult. Ish.

“We are going to Crank?” I ask. “Together? I mean, that’s great, but I just didn’t expect you to go with me.”

“Yeah, well, it’d be good for you to meet the townsfolk.” He winks. “And Navie told you to come tonight. On Friday. At nine thirty. When the place goes a little bonkers, usually.”

“Hey, it sounds fun.”

“Oh, it is.” He leans against the wall and smiles. “But you’re gonna need a bodyguard.”

“Are you volunteering for the job, Wesley?”

He scowls, making me laugh. I toss a tub of butter his way. He catches it and puts it in the fridge.

“I had one of those,” he says.

“Sue me for not trusting it.” I take out a box of crackers. “What time do we leave?”

“Well, I think it’s probably best to get there earlier than nine thirty. But I need to run a couple of errands first. So maybe we meet there around eight? Kind of break the place in first?