Page 64 of Troublemaker: The Big Picture Edition

I nod, eyes watering. “Yes.”

“Yes, you’ll come to my place?”

I nod, clear my throat, and catch my breath. “What’s on the menu? Barbecued man meat?”

“I had a vegetarian meal planned, actually, but the man meat is definitely on the table.”

“Okay, I’m going to go talk to someone else now.”

“Was it something I said?”

“Yes. It was.”

“Congrats again on the show!” he calls out as I walk away from him with my thighs clenched together.

I’m going to text Franklin right now and tell him to start picking out an outfit for me to wear tomorrow night.

As I stand on Alex’s doorstep, holding a bottle of wine, I wonder if it was a terrible idea to wear the same skirt that I wore to the Griffith Observatory. It’s a warm evening and not at all windy. I do love this skirt, even though it sometimes behaves like an asshole. Franklin insisted I wear it, despite what I’d told him about my Santa Anas experience.

When the door opens and I see Alex’s jaw clench as he stares at my outfit, I consider offering to wash the dishes for Franklin for all of next year too.

“Hi there,” he mutters, his voice strained. “Come on in.”

I step inside his home. It’s contemporary and fairly nondescript on the outside, as are many homes in this neighborhood. At least that’s how it looks from the street. But I catch my breath as soon as I see the interior. I feel like I walked into an Instagram post. Franklin would totally approve of this space. The dark hardwood floors are shiny and warm, and the furniture and décor are tasteful but inviting and comfortable. There are so many big windows, it’s probably filled with natural light during the day. It feels pretty masculine and grown-up, but there are toys and children’s books here and there. Ryder’s shoes are lined up by the front door. It’s a man’s home, but the boy’s presence is deeply felt. I can just picture the two of them hanging out together here.

I don’t know why I’m tearing up, but it just feels really nice to be in this space.

“Welcome,” he says. “You look really good.”

“Thank you. I really love your house.”

“Thank you… Would you like me to put that bottle of wine somewhere, or should I just bring you a corkscrew and an extra-long straw?”

“Oh.” I didn’t realize I was clutching the bottle to myself. I hold it out to him. “This is for you.”

“I love Malbec. I’ll open it up and let it breathe.”

“Should I take my shoes off?”

“Actually, I was planning on eating outside, if that’s okay with you.” He gestures for me to follow him. He’s wearing jeans and a white button-down shirt and flip-flops. So casual, but he has the most beautiful feet I have ever seen attached to a human male. They might even be sexier than his earlobes.

“That looks great,” I say, all husky-voiced. “I mean that sounds great.” I somehow manage to tear my eyes away from those beautiful sexy feet.

Holy shit, his kitchen is beautiful and sexy too.

I just want to climb up onto that long, tiled countertop and take a nap.

Or maybe I want to do other things on there.

There are beautiful Spanish ceramic painted plates displayed on the walls, fruits piled high in one gorgeous brightly colored bowl.

It’s like how I feel when I walk into an Anthropologie store. I want everything and I want to move in. Except Anthropologie stores never make me this horny. And I don’t know, maybe I’m focusing a little too much on the house because I don’t want to obsess about the man who owns it. The one I’m probably going to have sex with soon. Yes, I make lists and do mental inventories to calm myself down—so what?

But I love it. I love the furniture and the tiles and the earlobes and the feet. “I love all of it,” I whisper.

“Good,” he says, uncorking the wine and then picking up a serving tray that’s already filled with small plates of food. Tapas-style. “You’re welcome to hang out here anytime. Come on.”

I drop my shoulder bag on the kitchen table and follow him through the patio door to a wraparound porch. There’s a built-in nook that’s decorated Moroccan-style, with lanterns and beautiful pillows. Beyond the deck is a small private yard with a teepee toward the back of it, between two beautiful olive trees.Several rugs and pillows are spread out on the grass in front of the tent, and there are strings of lights around the trees and the rugs.