Interim(100)

She plopped on the couch. He joined her.

“You didn’t cut into it to make sure?” he asked.

“It was all about presentation. I didn’t want the chicken to look butchered,” she explained.

“And how long was Caroline sick?”

“About four days. I still feel terrible about it,” Regan confessed. “She kept saying, ‘Why, Regan, why?’ in this really pathetic, dramatic voice, and it broke my heart every time.”

Jeremy chuckled. He could picture Caroline doing exactly that.

“Hey,” Regan whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve never been here before,” she replied. “You wanna take me for a tour?”

Jeremy scanned the room. “Well, there’s this,” he said, waving his hands around. “And there’s that,” he said, pointing to the kitchen and hallway.

She giggled. “I’m being serious.”

“You just wanna see my bedroom,” he said, nudging her arm playfully.

“How dare you! I’m a lady.”

He raised an eyebrow and muttered, “You weren’t a lady the other day . . .”

“Jeremy!” She smacked his arm.

“Ouch! I’m not sayin’, I’m just sayin’.”

She laughed. “I explained it all to you. Hello? Remember the not-acting-appropriately-when-you-finally-get-what-you-want thing?”

“Oh, I remember,” he said.

“You’re just trying to embarrass me,” Regan huffed.

“Is it working?”

She pointed. “You see my face?”

Beet red. He laughed.

“I’ll take you for a tour, but it’s not much.”

“It’s your very own apartment,” Regan countered. “That’s a lot.”

He considered this. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

He grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet.

“Living room,” he said, and led her to the kitchen.

He watched her poke about the tiny space, searching his food stash. She settled on a bag of Oreos and held it up to him, asking the unspoken question.

“Only three because they’re my favorite,” he said.

She shoved a cookie in her mouth and resumed her investigation.

“Don’t eat this,” she mumbled with a full mouth, holding out a box to him. “It’s shit.”

“But it’s easy. A ready-made dinner,” he argued.

“It’s a bunch of processed garbage,” she replied. “I don’t think any of the ingredients are real. Stick to clean foods as much as possible.”

He shook his head. “You’re shoving Oreos in your face, and you wanna talk to me about eating healthy?”

She turned and smiled, then bit into her fourth cookie.

“That’s exactly right.”

He laughed. “You have cookie all in your teeth.”

“Is it sexy?” she asked, smiling demurely.

“So hot,” Jeremy replied.

“You got any milk?”

“Hmm. Maybe.” He placed his hand on the fridge handle, then paused. “I don’t know. Milk’s expensive.”

Her eyes went wide. “Jeremy, give me your milk.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jeremy!”

“I thought you wanted to see my apartment.”

“You don’t want me to rinse this out first?” she asked, exposing her teeth and moving her finger back and forth in front of them.

“I already told you I thought it was hot.”

“Ha ha, now will you please give me something to drink? If I’d have known you were so stingy with your milk, I wouldn’t have bothered to bring over baking supplies. We can’t eat cake without milk.”

“Cake?” His eyes lit up.

“I know you like it.”

He poured her a glass of milk. “Red velvet?”

“Yep.” She gulped the milk then let out a satisfied sigh.

“Like, from scratch?”

“That’s how I bake.”

“Oh, wow. I thought I wanted to spend all my time with you back there—” He pointed to his bedroom. “—but not anymore. Made-from-scratch red velvet cake trumps that.”

Regan snickered. “Gee, thanks.”