Risk (Gentry Boys #2)(36)

But I did know one thing; when I was with her the bottle stopped calling to me so loudly. Chase had been right to bawl me out about that. Drinking had become too much of a crutch. If I didn’t put an end to it then someday I’d awaken to the sad reality that big patches of my life had been lost to the fog.

“You hungry?” Truly asked with a smile as she opened the door to her apartment.

“Always,” I answered with my hand on her back.

I’d forgotten about that cat of hers. It was sitting on the arm of the sofa. I could swear the thing was pissed to see me again.

Truly called to it softly. “Hey Dolly girl.” The black cat mewed and crept beneath her open hand.

“A guest. That’s unusual.”

The voice was female. For a horrifying second I thought it came from the cat.

The girl walked into the living room and leaned against the far wall with her arms crossed. From the silent way she sized me up I guessed she didn’t cut anyone too many breaks.

“Steph,” said Truly with some surprise. “This is Creed Gentry. Creed, this my roommate, Stephanie.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, trying to be polite. I extended my hand.

She stared at my outstretched hand for a few seconds. Then she laughed, tossing her curly blonde hair over her shoulder before she shook my hand gruffly.

“You couldn’t give a hot damn about meeting me,” she said but there was amusement in her voice. She had a clipped eastern accent. New York maybe, or New Jersey.

“Be nice,” Truly warned but she was chuckling softly.

“I was nice to someone yesterday,” Stephanie yawned. She was good looking. Her clothes were sloppy and her face was free of makeup, but I could tell she really turned into something if she made the effort. Even so, she could never have competed with Truly.

But then, as far as I was concerned these days, no girl could compete with Truly.

“I’ve seen you before,” this Stephanie person said to me. “On campus.”

“I work security at events sometimes.”

“I don’t go to f*cking events. No, that’s not it.” She snapped her fingers. “You’re in my Psych 101. You’re always lounging in the back with your sunglasses on and skinny chicks hanging all over your shit.”

I glared at her. “That’s not me. That’s my brother.”

“Oh,” she shrugged. She didn’t seem particularly interested either way.

“You heading out?” Truly asked as Stephanie shouldered a black backpack.

“Yeah,” Stephanie muttered with a troubled look. “So I’m afraid we’ll have to continue this stimulating discussion another time.” She shoved me aside as she made her way to the door. “I’ll see you guys.” She shut the door behind her before either of us could say a word.

“I know,” Truly said in response to my raised eyebrows. “I can’t figure her out either. I think she prefers it that way. I’m actually surprised she greeted you at all.”

“If you can call that a greeting.”

“It is for Stephanie.”

Truly slipped her heels off and walked to the kitchen. “You like gumbo?”

“I don’t know. What is it?”

She let out a fake gasp of horror and poked her head around the corner. “You’re kidding! Oh honey, we’ve got to pop that cherry tonight.” She disappeared around the corner again and I heard her opening the fridge.

I found her stirring some ghastly looking shit inside of a big plastic container. She set the timer on the microwave and pushed the whole thing in. I’d never known another woman able to do that; turn every move into something so totally beautiful that I just couldn’t stop staring.

Truly noticed. “What?”

I rested one hand on the fridge door and traced the neckline of her blouse with the other. “I like your fridge. I remember now just how much I like it.”

She squirmed, breathing hard as my fingers enjoyed the silky feel of her skin. She wanted me to touch her more. I wanted to touch her more. But then the microwave beeped and she slipped away. “Sit down. I’ll bring you a bowl.”

She wouldn’t have objected if I’d ignored her, if I’d pulled her clothes away and started making demands. I didn’t though. I liked being here with her like this. I liked watching her fill a chipped soup bowl and bring me a pile of food, even though it didn’t look particularly tasty.

“Smells good though,” I admitted. “What did you call it?”

“Gumbo,” she smiled. “You have to eat it. I insist. It’s got sausage, shrimp, vegetables and everything but the kitchen sink mixed in. My sisters and I used to live on nothing but this for months at a time. I could make it in my sleep.”

I picked up the spoon she had given me. “I thought you told me you didn’t cook.”

Truly shrugged. “And I thought you were being a caveman at the time so I lied.”

She watched me carefully as I took a bite. It kind of tugged at me a little, how badly she wanted me to like this stupid bowl of food. I chewed slowly and swallowed.

“It’s good,” I said honestly.

She grinned and went back to the fridge. “Congrats. You have lost your creole gumbo virginity and now nothing else will ever taste as good again. You want a beer?”