Begin Again (Again #1)(83)

Dawn and Scott joined me for lunch, and I told them about Kaden’s visit the night before without divulging the details of his story. I also told them about his intention to make up for how he’d treated me.

“Hm,” Scott mused, when I was done.

“It seems incredibly romantic and somehow not like Kaden,” mused Dawn. She seemed to have problems reconciling the Kaden I was describing with the Kaden she knew.

“He gave me his coffee maker. I found it at my doorstep this morning. And he scraped all the ice off my windshield. And left his CDs on the trunk. Gift wrapped. With a bow,” the words bubbled out of me.

Dawn rested her chin in her hand. “So beautiful,” she sighed. “Just like in a movie.”

“I don’t think you should soften up just yet, Allie,” Scott warned, waving his fork in front of my nose. “If Micah had pulled that kind of shit, he’d have to deliver much more than music and coffee.”

Well, that put a damper on my euphoria. If you put it that way, Kaden’s gestures weren’t really that special any more.

A tickling sensation feathered along my back, just as Dawn said: “Don’t turn around, Allie.”

Two hands lay on my shoulders, and I froze. Leaning back, I looked up—at Kaden’s amused expression.

“I hear you’re blabbering again,” he said with a smile.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have communication sciences now?” I asked, and realized I must sound like a stalker. Or a controlling girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend. Or however he saw me now.

Kaden rubbed his neck. “I had an appointment with my tattoo artist.”

“Did you get a new one?”

He nodded, still wearing that crooked, secretive grin.

“Where? And what?” I pushed. As usual, when his tattoos came to my mind, my heart started to race.

“You wish you knew, right?” His eyes flashed in amusement.

“Maybe a portrait of Allie’s face on your left butt cheek?” Scott asked, and Dawn and I burst into laughter.

“No. Though it’s not a bad idea.”

“Don’t encourage him,” I warned Scott.

Kaden chuckled and leaned over me again. “I have to go. Just wanted to drop off some desserts.”

He set a small, steaming bowl down in front of me. The fragrance of chocolate wafted up. Kaden had brought me a warm brownie.

My eyebrows raised, I glanced over at Scott, but he wasn’t looking my way. Instead, he was staring in amazement at the bag Kaden was holding out to him. He took it gingerly, opened it, and peered inside. “You got me a doughnut?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yes. And for Dawn,” Kaden said, pushing a second bag across the table, “a blueberry muffin.”

“I don’t like—”

“I know. It’s chocolate. So, gotta go,” he interrupted her. Then he leaned toward me, and I froze. For a second I thought he’d try to kiss me. But instead he put his lips to my ear. “I’ll never catch enough of your rays, Allie. You’re beautiful.”

He straightened up, nodded at Scott and Dawn, and left the dining hall.

“Okay, I forgive him,” Dawn said, her mouth full of muffin.

Scott stared at his doughnut. “I want to hate him, but I’ll never succeed if he keeps bringing me doughnuts.”

With my coffee spoon, I cut the brownie in little pieces and then ate one of them. Pointing the spoon at Scott, I said, “Now you know how it is for me.”

“So what are we going to do now?” Dawn asked.

“Eat our dessert?” I sighed. Coffee, music, chocolate. You had to give it to Kaden: He knew how to win over a woman—and her friends, too.

“But that doesn’t mean you’re canceling the roommate search, does it?” Dawn asked. “I mean, we hung up the ads everywhere.”

Not only that, but we’d scheduled an open house at the end of the week, for anyone who wanted to see the room.

“The one has nothing to do with the other.” Scott poked a finger into his doughnut filling, which was somehow both disgusting and cute at the same time. After licking his finger, he gesticulated wildly. “Just because these two have finally started talking to each other doesn’t mean they have to live together again. Maybe the independence will do you both some good.”

He was right. The thing with Kaden and me had nothing to do with our living situation. And aside from the fact that I didn’t need the extra room for myself, the rent was above my budget. So I’d keep looking for a roommate—no matter how tasty our desserts had been.

The week continued this way: Every morning, a little surprise was waiting on my doormat; the car windows had been scraped; and Kaden brought dessert for me and my friends. Every day, he called to see how I was doing, ask about my day. He kept his promise to make me smile every day.

He never kissed me or touched me intimately, which drove me crazy after day two. I—who had asked for more time—was now dying for his closeness. Even though I knew we shouldn’t rush things, each of his gestures was so sweet, that it was hard for me to control my feelings.

Thursday afternoon there was another package waiting outside my door. The box was large and heavy; I grunted as I carried it in and set on my living room table.

Leaving my jacket and scarf in the hall, I opened the package, my fingers tingling. What could Kaden have thought of now?