Meet Me Halfway(32)

“Pet names mean nothing if you don’t put a ring on her hand.” He looked over at me pointedly, and I struggled not to snort.

“Rings are materialistic and lack uniqueness. Pet names and affection are specific and personal,” she countered. “I’ve cleaned up her vomit, wiped away her tears, slept in the same bed, and held her hand while she pushed out that kid’s watermelon of a noggin.”

Garrett raised his hands in defeat, and a hint of a smile graced his lips. “Fair enough.”

“I don’t have a watermelon head.” Jamie stood to the side, glowering like he’d received the worst insult in the world. Considering he was in love with Layla, it probably was. I couldn’t help but laugh, ruffling his hair as I passed him on my way into the kitchen.

“If ya’ll are done with your pissing contest, I need to get started on dinner. Would you like to stay and eat, Garrett?” I looked at him over the bar, offering the friendliest smile I could.

He’d already been looking at me before I spoke, and if anything, his gaze seemed to spark with my question. Nate was my only experience with having a male friend, and I suddenly wondered if I’d crossed a line. Did he think I was hitting on him?

My face heated under his attention. “It’s nothing fancy, I’m making spaghetti and steaming up some veggies. But I tend to always make too much, so you’re more than welcome to stay.”

He shifted his weight, leaning his elbows onto the bar. “I don’t think I’ve ever known someone who didn’t make too much spaghetti.”

I chuckled, “True.”

He watched me wander the small kitchen, setting out pots and ingredients. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“No, I got it, why don’t you go relax. We don’t have cable or any streaming services, but there’s a container of movies in the coat closet.”

He paused, pushing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. “You mind if I fire up a game with Jamie?”

“That’s fine—” I started, but I trailed off at the two inches of flat stomach that greeted me when Garrett raised his hoodie over his head. He folded it across the back of a barstool, and I quickly averted my gaze while he adjusted his shirt, hoping he hadn’t noticed me ogling him.

Luckily for me, my little eavesdropper overheard Garrett’s question and was bobbing his head up and down next to the neighbor he’d sworn he didn’t like. I rolled my eyes and pointed at him. “Make sure you kick his butt.”

The kid nodded seriously, “I will.”

Chuckling and sending the boys away, I raised my brows and looked over at Layla, who’d been watching the entire thing with a ‘bitch, you got some shit to tell me’ look on her face.

“Get in here and help.”

She sucked on her teeth, putting her hands on her hips. “You just told him you had it under control.”

“Yeah, and I do, because you’re going to come chop up the veggies for me.”





Like a lion on the hunt, Layla marched into the kitchen, cornering me while I was elbow deep in dish water and couldn’t escape. I could tell by the glint in her eye, I wasn’t going to like whatever it was she had to say.

While we’d cooked, she’d told me more about Rick, the musician she’d finally admitted to hooking up with, and I was happy she’d found someone besides me she enjoyed spending time with.

The problem was she’d used her new relationship as an excuse to poke at me about my own dating life, again trying to convince me to try online dating. I’d brushed it off with an “I’ll think about it.”

For the most part, I’d been able to turn the conversation back to her throughout the evening and got a small reprieve while we’d all eaten. We’d all sat at the table, trading small talk and teasing Jamie about finally getting whooped on his game.

I smiled, remembering how appalled Garrett had looked when I’d scooped up my spaghetti and dumped it on a slice of buttered bread. I’d made sure to make direct eye contact when I shoved it in my mouth. I was serious about my food, and spaghetti sandwiches were a staple in my house.

Overall, it’d been a wonderful evening, but as soon as Jamie hopped in the shower, Layla had twisted, beelining for me. Garrett was still over, but he was in the living room, wrapping up the controllers and putting the system away. I’d told him not to worry about it, but he’d only looked at me like I was an idiot and done it anyway.

“So.”

Continuing to scrub the pan in my hands, I asked, “So, what?”

She groaned, smacking her hand on the counter. “Online dating! You said earlier that you’d think about it.”

“And you believed me?” I laughed, leaning to the side, trying to keep the rinsed pan over the sink while reaching for the towel I’d inadvertently left near the stove.

A large hand appeared in my peripheral, grabbing it and handing it to me from over the bar. I offered him a look that was half smile, half grimace, thankful while simultaneously wishing he’d go back into the living room so he wouldn’t hear our conversation.

Determined to make a point, Layla transferred her attention to him. “How old are you, Garrett?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Okay, so a little older. And have you ever met someone online?”