Two Outta Three (Two Outta Three #1) Page 3

He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”

  “You heard me.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly and for a moment I thought I had angered him. Fortunately, his voice was calm, though a bit too calculating for my taste. “You already answered that question yourself.”

  I stared at him blankly.

  “My mom?” he offered, but not condescendingly.

  “Why come here? To my store. It’s been years since I last saw you and suddenly you reappear, acting all strange.”

  “I’m not acting strange.”

  I stared at him pointedly, my face stern and unamused. It had been the same look I used to give him any time he acted up and I could tell he recognized it. His shoulders sagged forward slightly, betraying the light sweat stain around his collar. He was nervous. But why?

  Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes and in a low tone said, “I know things were left a bit weird between us, but I promise it was for the better.”

  “For the better? We were best friends, Jesse. Two out of three, might I add. You completely fell off the face of the earth. Tell me, have you even visited Stephanie since you arrived?”

  He frowned. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  “You bet I do,” I grumbled. I turned on my heel and grabbed a dirtied orange apron, throwing it on. As I tied the knot around my waist, I could have sworn I caught Jesse’s eyes following my every movement. “So what’s your deal? Why are you here?”

  “I had to take care of my mom, Rocky. I needed a job. The opportunity presented itself and I had to take it. You’d do the same thing.”

  “If this opportunity didn’t happen to show up, would you even have tried to reach out to me?” The look on his face spoke volumes and I couldn’t bring myself to hear him say it out loud, so I decided to switch gears. “Actually, where did you even run into my dad in the first place? My dad is either here at work or back at home.”

  “The pharmacy. I was picking up some meds for my mom and your dad was there for his own stuff.”

  That’s right. My dad had been fighting off a bad cold.

  I felt my resolve weakening. I missed my friend and I had no idea why there was ice between us. It was as if a cold front had blown in and never disappeared.

  “Was it something I did?” I demanded.

  Jesse, who was reaching for his own apron, froze mid-way. “What?”

  “I must have done something for you to stop talking to me.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners in what I could only describe as amusement. The fact that he could find any enjoyment in this conversation irritated me.

  “Well?” I demanded.

  “Why does it have to be something you did? I stopped talking to Stephanie too.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “But what? But I was closer to you than I was to her? But we were supposed to be friends forever and I ruined it?”

  “Yeah,” I just about whispered.

  “High school’s over. We had to grow up at some point.” He threw his apron on and was about to turn away when he suddenly paused. “Rocky?”

  “What?” I snapped. I was no longer irritated. I was full-blown angry.

  “Contrary to what you might believe, it is really nice seeing you again. You grew up…nicely.” With that he headed towards the stockroom, leaving me gaping after him.

  ***

  “And that’ll be thirteen dollars and fifty-eight cents,” I said, forcing a fake cheerful voice. My conversation with Jesse was still weighing heavily on me and the fact that he was only a few feet away inside the stockroom, or The Dungeon as us employees so loving called it, did not make me feel any better.

  As I waited for Mrs. Crenshaw, one of our regulars, to count about four dollars’ worth in change, I felt my ears begin to burn. I could have sworn I felt somebody watching me.

  “Rocky!”

  I looked up and spotted Ethan walk in with two brown paper bags in his hands. He had a wide smile glued to his face and a little jump to his step. He wore a pair of dark brown trousers and a fitted grey sweater. I couldn’t help but think he looked like a private school student.

  Mrs. Crenshaw looked over her shoulders. Once she saw him she looked back at me with a conspiratorial glint in her eye. “So, you and the Malcolm boy?”

  It was odd hearing my seventy year old customer croon so…so…sensually.

  “Hardly a boy now, Mrs. Crenshaw.” I laughed.

  “You’re right. That sucker over there is a full-fledged man who fills up those slacks quite nicely, might I add.”

  “Mrs. Crenshaw!”

  “Word of advice? Snatch him up. From my experience, you don’t get nice boys who look like that every day.”

  “Point taken,” I replied, quickly losing my smile. I couldn’t help but glance over at The Dungeon and felt myself wilt. What if I never liked the nice guys to begin with? What if I liked bad boys?

  As soon as Mrs. Crenshaw left (pinching Ethan’s ass on the way out, I should add), I stepped away from the counter to Ethan’s open arms.

  “Hey, beautiful.” He placed a kiss on my forehead, causing me to stiffen up.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  Attempting to relax, I hugged him back tightly and inhaled the contents of the bag. Though I really didn’t have much of an appetite, I couldn’t help but feel my mouth water. “You didn’t have to bring me lunch.”

  “Ah, but I wanted to. I felt bad that I didn’t stay after Christmas dinner to take care of you.”

  “Ethan, you didn’t have to.” You’re not my boyfriend.

  “I know, but still. I wanted to make it up to you. Seeing as I don’t know if your stomach feels any better or not, I thought I’d get you some grilled chicken.”

  “My stomach feels good,” I told him. Just not my pride—or my heart.

  Absently, I picked off a piece of lint from his sweater. With his answering grin, you’d think I had given him a foot rub or something. “Your mom told me I was allowed to eat in the break room with you.”

  “Of course she did,” I muttered. Stepping away from his arms, I grabbed one of the bags and began walking ahead of him. “Shall we go?”

  “We shall, Milady.” He laughed and pinched me lightly at my waist. From behind the racks I could make out my mom watching us closely.

  I didn’t have to wonder why my mom was Team Ethan all of a sudden. Having never really brought any guys home with me, my mom had been extremely vocal about her fear of me turning into some asexual spinster who owned millions of cats. Not that anything was wrong with that, but I knew some part of her always wanted to be “The Mother of the Bride.” When Emily ran off and eloped, she was devastated in more ways than one. Add another daughter who seemed content sketching alone in her room as opposed to playing the field and it was one bad mix for the woman obsessed with bridal magazines.

  When Ethan Malcolm came along, it was as if the heavens aligned for her. Ethan was a new employee at the ad agency that produced our commercials. He was newly assigned to our account and came along for our holiday shoot. I admit he caught my eye once he walked through the door. I mean, how could he not? He looked as if he’d walked off the pages of magazine. Yet, when he asked me for coffee, I initially declined. Why? Honestly, I’m not sure. However, I soon found out Ethan hated taking no for an answer. Flowers, chocolates, teddy bears—name any single stereotypical romantic gift and I guarantee he had given it to me. Never one for being the materialistic type, his gestures turned me off even more than before. It wasn’t until he showed up during one of my shifts wearing an Andy Warhol shirt that I changed my mind. What can I say? I may not be materialistic, but I’m a full-fledged art geek.

  Ethan prepped our food, opening containers and setting it out in front of us. When he opened up the little packet that housed my fork, I had to bite my tongue from reminding him I wasn’t a child.

  Just enjoy the attention, I thought. Yet I couldn’t help but cringe when he placed my fork in front of me. What was next? Was
he going to put a bib on me too?

  “How’s your work day going?” He took a seat beside me and began digging into his salad. I picked at mine, not because I didn’t like the food but more because I had suddenly lost my appetite once again.

  “It’s okay.” Stab, stab, stab at a cucumber. “Nothing to write home about. What about yours?”

  As he explained some scheduling conflict for one of their production assignments, my mind wandered off. Ethan was really a great guy. He really was. So why didn’t I feel that sort of excitement whenever I was with him? What I wanted to feel was that little shortness of breath, a flip of the stomach, or even slight nervousness. Whenever I was with Ethan I just felt…normal.

  I kept stabbing my poor vegetables as if they were the cause to my lack of sexual attraction. Soon my plate looked like a veggie massacre. Deciding I might as well take a bite, I shoved a whole pile of the carnage into my mouth.

  “So, I was thinking we can go out to Carbanaro’s tomorrow night,” Ethan said coyly.

  “Are you kidding me? That place is expensive!” I exclaimed with a mouth full of food. Apparently, I had lost all sense of table manners, but of course Ethan was nice enough not to care.

  “Well, it’ll be our fourth date and I was thinking—”

  “Oh! I didn’t know anybody else was in here,” a voice exclaimed. I looked up to see Jesse’s shocked face. He glanced between me and Ethan and then back again.

  “It’s okay, man. Just having lunch with Rocky.” Ethan reached out and tapped my arm.

  Jesse’s lips tightened. “I see.”

  Ethan smiled warmly, seemingly oblivious to Jesse’s judging eyes. “Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before.”

  I cleared my throat, nearly choking on a piece of lettuce. “Ethan, this is my old friend, Jesse. He just started working for us yesterday.” I paused and glanced back up at Jesse, who had backed his way over to the old fridge in the corner of the break room. “Jesse, this is Ethan. He’s…uh….we…uh…”

  Ethan stiffened slightly, but never lost the smile on his face. “No labels.”

  “No labels,” Jesse repeated. He opened the fridge and grabbed a dirtied insulated lunch bag. Realizing he had no choice but to eat with us, I quickly began chomping down my salad. Anything to hurry lunch along.

  “Old friends, huh?” Ethan glanced between the two of us. “How long have you known each other?”

  Jesse answered for me. “We’ve been friends since we were fourteen.”

  “Wow, almost ten years. That’s impressive!” Ethan’s eyes widened in appreciation.

  “We lost touch a few years back,” I corrected, stabbing into yet another cucumber. I kept my eyes focused on my half-eaten salad and didn’t notice Jesse quickly making an exit.

  “Where are you heading off to? You can eat with us,” Ethan offered.

  I lifted my head and realized Jesse was already making his way towards the door. He paused sheepishly and shook his head. “No offense, but I’m a bit of introvert. I need my lunch break to regroup…alone.”

  “Understood, my man.”

  Introvert? Since when?

  “Are you sure you aren’t just sneaking out to take a smoke?” I asked doubtfully.

  Jesse shook his head, but kept his expression cold. “I quit a long time ago.”

  He stopped smoking too?

  Ethan turned back towards me. “So, Carbanaro’s? Tomorrow evening?”

  “Uh, sure,” I replied absently. “Why not?”

  ***

  “What do you think his problem is?” Stephanie threw a popcorn kernel in her mouth, crunching loudly. She grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV before settling into her gigantic couch.

  It was Wednesday night and time for our show, and as weekly traditions went, I had come over in pajamas bearing cupcakes and lattes. It was one of my favorite days of the week and one of the many times I visited Stephanie. In fact, I was over at her apartment more than I was at my own home and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “He’s been acting all strange,” I complained.

  “How so?” Crunch, crunch, crunch.

  “I don’t know…like proper, almost. Definitely not the Jesse we used to know.”

  Stephanie nodded her head. “Well, we all did grow up.”

  I snorted. “Are you sure about that? Sometimes I feel like I’m faking adulthood.”

  Placing the bowl of popcorn down, Stephanie pushed herself off the couch and sat down next to me. “Silly rabbit, don’t you know that as you get older you start figuring out that nobody knows what the hell they’re doing? Everyone’s just faking the funk because they think that it’s what they have to do. We’re all children playing pretend.”

  “When did you get so smart?” I teased.

  “I was always the smart one of the group, remember? One outta three.” She poked me in the ribs so hard that I felt a bruise coming in.

  “Ow! Bitch!” I slapped her hand away and leaned back into the couch. I eyed her phone, which was perched on top of her coffee table. It sat dormant, the blank screen taunting me. “So he hasn’t even attempted to call you?”

  “The answer is still no, home girl. He probably doesn’t even want to see me. Unless…” Stephanie paused and grew a wicked smile.

  “Uh, oh. What?”

  “I think I’m going to pay Rossi’s a visit tomorrow during my lunch break.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “Yup. I never had a problem calling Jesse out on his bullshit before and I sure as hell don’t have a problem now.” Just then, the telltale music of the opening credits came on, causing Stephanie to snap her head towards the television. “Now enough of this melodramatic bullshit, Mr. Haynes is on!”

  I rolled my eyes and settled in for an hour of yummy eye candy.

  Chapter 5

  “What are you two doing out here?” Stephanie yelled accusingly. She gripped her royal blue dress, careful not to get it wet as she trudged across the moist grass.

  “Just having conversation,” Jesse replied, sounding tired.

  “Conversation? Jesse, you shouldn’t even be here right now! I was there when they pounded the gavel on you, remember?”

  “Ah, yes. You were busy snooping around.”

  Stephanie’s mouth dropped open, revealing two rows of aquamarine colored braces. “Snooping? I was checking to see if you were okay!” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Now it looks like I have to check on Rocky too.”

  “I’m not doing anything,” I argued. My face began to heat up. Leave it to Stephanie to cock block.

  “And what’s that flask I see there? Rocky?” Stephanie sounded like a school teacher at best, a grandma at worst.

  “It’s mine,” Jesse sighed. “Did you really think Rocky would drink? Damn, how’d I get stuck with two dweebs like you for friends?”

  My heart instantly plummeted. I had always wondered why Jesse chose to hang out with us. He was the stereotypical troublemaker and Stephanie and I were…well, an art geek and honors scholar. We definitely did not meld well with one another.

  “You should consider how lucky you were to be assigned to our biology group. You would have flunked if you didn’t have my big brain or Rocky’s artistic prowess. You have to admit our replica of the mitochondria was tops.”

  My eyes glazed over. It was actually the first day I ever really spoke to Jesse, though I had known of him since elementary school. Even back when I was seven I thought the shy, quiet kid with the dingy clothes was pretty cute, but as school hierarchy went, I never really had a reason to speak to him.

  Until then.

  As usual Stephanie and I paired up for the project faster than the teacher could even assign it. We sat plotting out who was doing what (of course I’d take care of the visuals and Stephanie the research) when Mrs. Harris dropped a huge bombshell.

  “Girls, do you mind taking Jesse Tyler in your group?” It was obviously more of an order than a question.

  Though I d
idn’t really mind, Stephanie was appalled. “Our duo was never meant to be a trifecta. Mrs. Harris, that is so unfair!”

  However, as soon as Jesse walked over with his silky brown hair bouncing with each step he took, I was ready to elbow Stephanie in the ribs. Who wouldn’t want this eye candy in the group? Unfortunately, it seemed as if Stephanie wasn’t the only one apprehensive about the grouping.

  I could tell by the way he gripped his binder tightly against his body like a shield that he didn’t like the arrangement any more than we did. Initially, I just assumed that this “cool” dude hated the thought of being grouped with nerds, but that assumption completely flew out the window once I saw his face. There was a certain sadness to it I’d never noticed before. Then again, how could I? Jesse never interacted enough for me to actually look at him. Like a lightbulb going off in my head, I realized Jesse wasn’t as much of a loner as he made himself out to be. I could tell deep down that he wanted a friend.

  “Hi, welcome to the group,” I told him. The moment his eyes flashed over me, I knew I was a goner. He looked at me in a way nobody had before. I couldn’t explain it, but it made me feel special. From that one look alone, I practically devoted myself to him.

  Then on the other end of the spectrum, we had Stephanie. She eyed him in annoyance and whispered, “We’re still keeping our original assignments, right?”

  “There are three of us now,” I hissed back. “Less work.”

  She shrugged. “Hey, two outta three ain’t bad.”

  ***

  “Are you still speaking?” Jesse glanced over at me and jutted his thumb to the right. “Is she really still speaking?”

  I groaned. “Can you both just enjoy the night? It was peaceful out here before your bantering.”

  “She started it.” Jesse kept his thumb pointed at Stephanie. The thick ring, which wound underneath his knuckle, sparkled under the moonlight.

  Pursing my lips, I changed the subject. “Steph, where’s Daniel? When I left, you two were the textbook definition as to why chaperones are needed.”

  “Ah, he’s a jerk.”