Page 55 of Holding Out for a Gyro
Elizabeth asked, “Uh. Does he want to talk to me?” at the same time Evan yelled, “I don’t want to talk to her!” from the next room.
Elizabeth’s volume had returned to a normal calm. “Doesn’tsound like he wants to talk to me.”
“Well, you say something, and I’ll repeat it.”
“What?” She wouldn’t play.
I said, “She says she wants to talk to you.”
Elizabeth shouted, “No, I did not!” She paused. “What’s he saying?”
“He’s thinking it over.”
Bas laughed behind his fist. Evan stormed into the kitchen, jacket in hand. “I’m not going anywhere with her.”
I shrugged. “How about Crabtree Falls?”
“Chelsea!” Poor Elizabeth was at my mercy, but a second after her angry outburst, she asked, “What’s he doing now?” with the breathless anticipation of a third-party gossip.
Evan stopped dead. “Shehateshiking.”
“He says you hate hiking.”
“I heard him. And I do. What are you doing?”
“Trust me,” I told her, and faced Evan. “Clock’s ticking.”
Bas chuckled. “Better get a move on. It’s an hour away.”
“What makes you think I’m going?” he huffed.
“Meet me at my place.” I disconnected the call, then spun on Evan. “Are you stupid?”
“What the hell?” He squared his shoulders and raised his chin, nostrils flaring.Please.Like he could intimidate me with his spiky hair and unnaturally white teeth.
“Don’t you get it? That list isn’t about you. It’s aboutmeand my fucked-up stunted emotions. My therapist suggested it.” I risked a glance at Bas, wishing he wasn’t hearing this, but fuck Evan. “Everything on our list was intended to challenge us to be our true selves and find adventure here and now. She never would have spoken to you if I hadn’t dared her.”
He pointed a finger at me. “See? Itwasall about meeting guys.”
I counted to five, but it didn’t help. “No, you ding-dong. It’sabout personal growth. You might have noticed that Elizabeth is a smart, confident, beautiful woman, but she’s more at home three stories belowground with stacks of books that smell like the dead men who wrote them than she is at a wine tasting. She hates meeting guys at bars, and when I make her come out, the only reason she doesn’t go home with a different guy every night is because she’s heard every pickup line ever invented from the inebriated leches who come on to her. For some reason, she’s looking for something more long-lasting than a casual hookup. Before you, the closest thing she’d had to a date in months was with the retired eighty-year-old professor she has a standing lunch with. So yeah, I push her to break the ice because if it were left to her, I’d be her only friend. You should thank your lucky stars she deigned to choose you to approach that night.”
Evan’s jaw hung slack, but he shook himself and said, “I’ll take a shower.”
Bas laughed, thank God. “Are you sure you’re not Greek?”
Relieved he hadn’t zeroed in on my soul-baring TMI, I tossed my hair saucily. “You never know.”
“You sounded exactly like my sisters when their husbands do something boneheaded.”
That made me smile. He must have been rubbing off on me. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
While I gathered my things, Bas rooted through the cupboards, and I stopped to watch him, so sexy in his underwear.Damn, he was fun to look at.Fun to watch cooking, fun to watch doinganything. I ran my eyes down his crisp T-shirt and boxer shorts, down his dark, lean legs. My imagination led me to decadent places. Those boxers at his knees. Me on mine. I pictured myself dragging a tongue up his calf, drinking him in until he met my gaze. His head tilted, and one eyebrow rose.
Busted.
He licked his lower lip, and an all-out fantasy hijacked mybrain. I shook away a memory of him banging me on that counter while I sucked on those lips. Before I started drooling, I fished my keys out of my purse and said, “I’m gonna run home and get a shower, too. I’ll bring Elizabeth back. Don’t let that knucklehead leave.”
He handed me something wrapped in wax paper and said, “To tide you over.”
