Allie Everhart's Blog, page 13
February 22, 2016
Give Us a Chance – Jake Asks Ivy Out
JAKE
“I haven’t even said a word to her and my heart’s already beating faster. I feel nervous, and I’m never nervous. Even when I was doing all those interviews on TV last fall, I never got nervous.
“Hey, Ivy,” I say, trying to sound cool and relaxed.
“No,” she says, keeping her head down as she picks up a piece of sandpaper.
“No what?”
“No, I’m not going out with you.”
Shit. How did she know that’s why I came over here?
“I didn’t ask,” I say.
“No, but you were about to.” She leans down more, lightly sanding the edge of the book in her picture, creating the look of pages. Damn, that’s incredible. I’m seriously amazed by her talent.
“I was just coming over to say hello,” I tell her. “We haven’t talked since the Victorian. How have you been?”
“Good.” She flips her ponytail to her other shoulder, exposing her neck. I’d love to run my lips down that neck. Down that smooth, perfect skin. My eyes shift down to her shirt, a black v-neck t-shirt that fits close to her body.
“Was that it?” She catches me staring at her breasts and stands up, looking annoyed with me. That’s just great. I’ve been here less than a minute and already screwed this up.
“Good? That’s all you have to say?”
She sets the sandpaper down and crosses her arms over her chest. “What do you want to know?”
“How was your Christmas?”
She’s staring at me like that’s the lamest question ever asked. Considering Christmas was weeks ago, it is a lame question, but it’s the first thing that popped in my head.
“Let me guess,” I say, since she hasn’t answered. “It was good.”
She starts to smile, but then quickly shuts it down. “Yeah.” She shrugs. “Actually, that’s a lie. It sucked. But it’s like that every year so…” Her voice trails off and when she sees the questioning look on my face, she explains, “My mom died at Christmas. It was years ago, but still.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” I rake my hand through my hair, which I tend to do when I’m nervous or uncomfortable.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know.” She smiles slightly, but then it disappears again. “Well, I need to get back to work.”
Why is she always telling me to get lost? I know she doesn’t have a boyfriend. I need to try this again, using a different approach. Nash and Callie are right. My usual techniques aren’t going to work this time.
“So do you like to eat?” I ask.
It’s such a strange question that she laughs a little. “Yeah. Why?”
“Let’s go out tonight. It’s on me.”
“I told you I’m not going out with you.”
“It’s not a date. It’s just two people eating dinner. You said you like to eat, right?”
“And if I were to say yes, which I’m not, where would you take me?”
I pause to think. “A little place just down the street from here.”
“Titiana’s? The Mexican place?”
“No.”
“Marco’s Italian?”
I shake my head. “No. This place serves American food.”
“Just tell me.”
“It’s a little place called…” I pause for dramatic effect. “Burger King.”
She bursts out laughing, which is what I was hoping for. I wanted to hear her laugh. I like her laugh. “Burger King? That’s where you’d take a girl on a date?”
“It’s not a date, remember? And what’s wrong with Burger King? Flame-broiled burgers. And you get to have it your way. Extra pickles. No mustard. Whatever you want.”
She laughs again. I’ve decided this is my approach with her. Humor. And saying the unexpected. It seems to be working.
“I can’t go there,” she says. “I’m vegan.”
“Really? I didn’t know that. So we’ll go somewhere else. Where do vegans eat?”
“I’m not going out with you, Jake.”
“Is it because of the jacket?” I glance down at it. “Because I have other jackets if this one offends you.”
She gives me a funny look like she doesn’t know what I mean.
“It’s leather,” I say. “I assumed if you’re vegan you don’t like leather?”
“Oh, um, yeah.” She nods. “That’s right. No leather.”
I smile. “So I’ll switch coats and meet you there at six.”
“Sorry, but it’s not happening.” She turns back to her project.
I’ll have to try again later. At least I’m getting somewhere with her. I got her to laugh, so that was a start.
——
Give Us a Chance comes out March 12th. It’s the story of Jake and Ivy but will also feature Nash and Callie from Next to Me.
Pre-Order at Amazon
Add to Your Goodreads Shelf
February 16, 2016
February 10, 2016
Sneak Peek of Give Us a Chance
This is the first half of Chapter One.
JAKE
“You’ve gotta give up on this girl,” Nash says as he tosses his burger wrapper into the trash. “You’re starting to look desperate.” He takes a napkin from the stack and wipes his hands. “Actually you’ve been looking desperate for months. Now you’re starting to look pathetic.”
“I’m not here to see her.” I tighten the cap on my bottle of water and stand up. “I’m checking on the project.”
“It’s my project. You don’t need to be here.”
“I’m checking on the status.” I walk over to the glass partition that separates the office from the rest of the library. I spot Ivy in the children’s section, hovered over a square piece of wood that she’ll have turned into a masterpiece by the end of the week. She’s so damn talented. Best damn carpenter in the city. And freaking hot. Even from here, I can see her tight ass in those jeans and it gets me going.
“Jake.” I hear Nash behind me and turn around.
“What?”
He grins and leans back in his chair. “Did you hear anything I just said? Or were you too busy drooling over Ivy to notice?”
“Would you stop teasing him?” Callie walks in and over to Nash.
Callie is his girlfriend. They live together and are in love to the point that it gets annoying to be around them. They’re always touching and kissing, and they don’t care who’s watching. I’m happy for Nash. I just wish he’d tone down the PDA. I don’t need to see that. Or maybe I’m just jealous. I never keep a girl around long enough to get to that stage. The stage when you’re so in love you can’t help but show it off to the world. Let everyone know the girl is yours and yours alone.
I don’t have girlfriends. I sleep around. Play the field. I’ve been doing it since high school and I’ve loved every minute of it, but I have to admit, it’s starting to get old. I’m 23, and by now I should’ve had at least one girlfriend but instead I’ve had a random stream of girls come in and out of my life for a night, and that’s it. But that’s how I wanted it. I didn’t want a girlfriend. I didn’t want to be tied down.
“I have to give him shit,” Nash says, pulling Callie onto his lap. “That’s what brothers do.”
“You done with this?” I ask Callie. Her half-eaten burger is still on the table.
“Yeah, I’m done.”
I go to toss it out, but Nash lurches forward and grabs it. “You can’t throw that out.” He stuffs it in his mouth, still holding Callie on his lap.
She shakes her head. “Don’t you ever get full?”
“Nope.” He smiles and reaches around her for a napkin and wipes his mouth. “Can you grab my pop?”
Callie hands it to him and he takes a swig. He hands it back to her and she takes a swig for herself, then sets it down.
“I gotta go,” I say, checking my phone.
“You gonna at least say hello to her?” Nash asks.
I glance up from my phone. “For the last time, I didn’t come here to see Ivy. I’m here to check on the project. That’s it.”
Nash takes Callie’s hand, threading their fingers together. Their constant touching is so automatic, I don’t think he even knows he’s doing it. “You can get a status update over the phone.”
“I could, but then you wouldn’t get to see my smiling face.” I give him an overly wide grin as I take my coat off the chair.
“Don’t listen to Nash,” Callie says. “We like it when you stop by.”
“Especially when you bring us lunch,” Nash says. “Next time, bring extra and we’ll invite Ivy to eat with us.”
“Yeah, like that’s not obvious.” I roll my eyes.
“Dude, she knows you like her. You’ve already asked her out.”
“That was months ago. I’m sure she forgot about it. ”
“You asked her out more than once,” Nash says. “She didn’t forget about it. And she knows you stop by here all the time to see her.”
“Yeah? So? What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying she’s not interested. Either that or you’re not trying hard enough.”
“How the hell hard do I have to try? It’s a date. One date.”
Nash grins. “So you admit you still want to date her?”
I ignore him and check my phone again. There’s a text that just popped up from Tracy, a girl I met last night when I stopped for a beer after work with some of the guys from my construction crew.
“Looks like I already have a date,” I say, holding up my phone. “I’m going out with Tracy tonight.”
“Who’s Tracy?” Callie asks.
“Some girl I met at the bar last night. We talked a few minutes. She was with a group of her friends.”
“You know, if you’d stop doing these random hook-ups,” Nash says, “you might actually get a girlfriend.”
“I don’t need a girlfriend.” I put my phone in my pocket, then realize I forgot to text Tracy back. I’ll do it later.
“What exactly did you say to her?” Callie asks me.
“Who?”
“Ivy. When you asked her out, what did you say?”
“I don’t remember. I think I just said something about wanting to hang out sometime.”
“No wonder she didn’t agree to it.” Callie gets up and comes over to me. “First of all, the words ‘hang out’ imply that you consider her a friend, like one of the guys. That’s not date language.”
“That’s not true,” Nash says to her. “I asked you to hang out with me when we were dating.”
She turns to him. “We weren’t dating then. We were just friends when you said that.”
“But it worked. You let me hang out with you.”
“Only because I’d made it clear we weren’t dating so the ‘hang out’ term was appropriate in that situation. We were just two friends hanging out.”
“We did a lot more than hang out.” He smiles.
She smiles back. “Yeah, well, our situation was different.” She turns back to me. “Anyway, if you want this girl for more than just sex—wait, is that the only reason you want her? For sex? Because if so then—”
“No,” I say, but then wonder why I’m doing this. All my past relationships, if you can even call them that, have just been about sex. Nothing else. So what’s my plan with Ivy? Am I going to date her for real? “Go ahead,” I say to Callie since I interrupted her.
“I was just saying that if you really want this girl, you need to make it clear that you want to take her on a date. Be specific. Tell her you want to take her for dinner and then suggest a restaurant.”
“That seems too formal. I’d feel like a kid asking a girl to prom.”
“It’s not formal. It’s how you’re supposed to do it.”
“And that’s what Nash did?” I chuckle, because I know he didn’t.
She glances at Nash. “Well, no, but whatever.”
“Hey.” Nash gets up and stands behind Callie, wrapping his arms around her. “I made you dinner. That was better than taking you somewhere. And I brought you flowers I picked out of the weeds, and cheap wine from the gas station.”
She laughs and tilts her head up to him. “Yeah, you were so romantic.”
He leans down and kisses her.
I look away. “Are we done here? I need to go.”
Callie focuses on me again. “Just ask her to dinner. And be sure to mention the restaurant you want to take her to. That way it looks like you put thought into it. She’ll appreciate that.”
——
Want to read more? Give Us a Chance releases in March.
February 4, 2016
Give Us a Chance – Book Blurb
Jake Wheeler doesn’t date. It’s one night and that’s it. Some would say he’s a player but he disagrees. He’s always upfront with a girl, letting her know he’s not interested in a relationship. That is until he meets Ivy.
A talented carpenter who can hold her own on a construction site, Ivy worked for Jake last summer. He asked her out, multiple times, but she turned him down, something that’s never happened to him before.
Now, months later, Jake is ready to try again. He can’t get this girl out of his head and he needs to go out with her at least once to figure out why. When he asks her out, he’s sure she’ll turn him down, so he’s shocked when she actually says yes.
After the first date, Jake knows he’s in trouble. Ivy is actually someone he could see himself being with, for a lot longer than a night. But is that what Ivy wants? Or is she just playing him, the way she assumes he’s played women in the past?
January 21, 2016
Cover Reveal – Give Us a Chance
A standalone contemporary romance. The story of Jake and Ivy. Coming in March!
January 3, 2016
December 29, 2015
Next to Me – Meet the Wheeler Boys
Callie
“What the hell?” I say to myself the next morning as I hear loud noises outside my window. I get out of bed and shove the drape aside and my mouth drops open.
It’s like three male fitness models have descended on my lawn and taken up residence. Tall. Muscular. Tan. Shirtless. Holy shit. Am I dreaming this? I look back at my bed. I’m not in it, so I must be awake. My room is bright from the sun and I go over to check the clock. It says it’s eight-fifteen.
I return to the window and gaze out at the scene on my lawn. I spot Nash walking over from his house, carrying a bag of something over his shoulder. Hot man number four. He, too, is shirtless and I’m reminded of how his chest felt when I ran my hands over it the other night as he kissed me. How his body felt when it pressed up against me. How it felt when his mouth—
“Callie!” I hear my name and it jars me from my thoughts. I look out and see Nash waving at me from my lawn. Shit, he can see me. He knows I was staring at him from the window.
I quickly back away from it but hear his voice again.
“Callie, get out here and meet my brothers.”
Is he kidding? I can’t go out there! I’m not even dressed. My hair’s a mess. I have no makeup on. And he expects me to go out like this and meet his super-hot brothers? There’s no way that’s happening. I’ll just ignore him. He has work to do. He’ll forget about me if I hide in here.
“Callie?” I hear his voice but it sounds clearer, no longer muffled by the window. “Callie, are you in your room?” It’s louder now. What the hell? Is he in my house?
I open my door and am met with the sight of his tan, muscular chest.
“Hey. Come outside and meet my brothers.”
“How’d you get in here?”
“I walked in the front door. I assumed you unlocked it just now to let me in after I waved at you.”
“No. I must’ve forgot to lock it last night.”
“You were in here all night alone with the door unlocked?” He sounds angry.
“This isn’t Chicago. It’s a safe town and nobody even comes out this way.”
He holds my shoulders, his eyes fixed on mine. “You always lock your doors. Even during the day. Got it?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
I just met this guy and he’s already looking out for me, caring about me, worrying about me. I wonder if he’s like that with everyone. He seems like he would be.
“Did you just wake up?” Nash removes his hands from my shoulders and stands up straight. Man, he’s tall. I have to tilt my head back just to look at his face. Otherwise, I’m staring at his chest, which isn’t a bad view.
“I woke up when I heard your brothers. What are they doing out there?” I cross my arms over my chest when I notice Nash’s eyes going to my breasts. He’s already seen them so I don’t know why I care.
“They’re chipping away the loose concrete,” he says. “You’ll be hearing that sound for a few hours, then we’ll break for lunch and start sanding down the rough edges. That’s even louder so you might want to go somewhere if you don’t want to hear it.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind. Besides, I have to mow the grass today so I won’t hear anything over the lawn mower.”
“Why don’t you wait until Monday and I’ll do it for you?”
“Do what?”
“Mow the lawn. You shouldn’t be doing that when your knee’s still not a hundred percent.”
“My knee is fine. You need to get outside. I don’t want your brothers thinking we’re doing something in here.”
“And what exactly would we be doing?” He leans against the door frame, smiling.
“Things we shouldn’t be doing.” I put my hand on his chest, trying to push him out of the way but he doesn’t move. He’s a solid mass of muscle that I couldn’t move even if I put all my weight into it.
“They could just think we’re in here talking, which is what we’re doing.”
“I’m sure you told them about us, which means they’ll think we’re doing more than talking.”
“I didn’t tell them anything. I don’t tell them that kind of stuff. It’s private.”
“You told them to stay away from me.”
“Yeah? So?”
“That tells them there’s something going on between us.”
“Would you stop worrying about this and get dressed? I got breakfast and we’re all waiting to eat.”
“You don’t have to wait for me. Just go ahead and eat.”
He pushes off the door frame and stands up straight again. “Get dressed. And hurry up. You got three hungry guys out there and another one right here.” He walks off. “By the way, I like the pajamas.”
I look down and see that I’m wearing my monkey pajamas; yellow shorts and a white tank top with monkeys and bananas printed all over it. I wear this every Friday night because it reminds me of Saturday morning cartoons, which I used to love when I was a kid. I’d look forward to it all week, and on Friday nights, I’d always wear pajamas with cartoon characters on them, getting ready for my Saturday cartoon marathon. It became a tradition, and although I no longer watch cartoons, I still wear goofy pajamas on Friday nights.
How embarrassing. Nash saw me in pajamas that look like something a kid would wear. They’re not the least bit sexy. That should kill any prospect of us having a physical relationship.
————
December 24, 2015
Next to Me – Nash’s Foot Rubs
Callie
Nash turns the TV on and flips through to a reality show where some guy tries to survive in the wild. “How about this?”
“That’s fine.”
He smiles. “Callie, I was joking. I didn’t think you’d actually want to watch some guy trying to catch fish and make a fire for an hour. I’ll find something else.” He flips through the channels.
“Nash, really. I don’t care. You came over to watch TV so watch whatever you want.”
He mutes the TV and looks at me. “That’s not why I came over.”
My stomach clenches as I prepare for him to confront me about my mini breakdown. God, I can’t believe I did that.
“Then why’d you come over?” I ask, lifting my legs onto the couch and hugging my knees to my chest.
He has that same concerned look he had when we were at his house. “Because I—”
“Don’t,” I blurt out.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t say whatever you were going to say.” I pull my knees even tighter to my chest.
He notices my closed off body language and his face turns from concerned back to his normal, casual, smiling self. “I was going to say that I like hanging out with you. You’re strange, but in a good way.”
“I’m not strange!” I extend my leg out and jab him with my foot.
“I said in a good way.” He laughs and grabs my foot, moving over a little so he can set it on his lap.
“Let go of my foot,” I say, trying to yank it back.
“You like foot rubs?” He kneads his thumb into the base of my foot and, holy crap, that might be the best feeling ever. I relax my leg and let him continue. “Is that a yes?”
I nod. “Yes.”
He chuckles. “Sink down a little. It’s not as good when you’re sitting up.”
Before I can analyze if this is a good idea or not, my body slides down on the couch. Nash turns the sound back on the TV but lowers the volume. Then he wraps both hands around my foot and massages it, his thumbs making long deep strokes from my heel to my toes. My head relaxes against the throw pillow and I close my eyes, focusing on how amazing this feels. One of my boyfriends in college gave me a foot rub one time and it was horrible. It hurt, and then tickled, and then hurt even more, so I never let him do it again.
But this? This is incredible. Nash is only touching my foot and yet I can feel it affecting other parts of my body. My head’s relaxing. My arms. My legs. And…oh, God, how did that happen?
“That good, huh?”
“What?” I open my eyes.
“The foot rub.”
“What about it?”
He smiles. “You were, uh…making some noise just now.”
“I wasn’t making noise,” I insist. I try to sit up but he holds my foot so I can’t move.
“You were moaning,” he says as he runs his thumb up the center of my foot. Shit, that feels good.
“I was NOT moaning.” I prop up on my elbows. “Who moans over a foot rub? That’s ridiculous.”
He eyes me, a sly grin on his face, and then his thumb goes to that spot again. The one that is somehow able to cause a tingle between my legs.
“Oh, God,” I moan, my head falling back.
I hear him chuckle. “Yeah, that. That was it. Sounded like a moan to me.”
Shit, he’s right.
My eyes pop open. “How did you do that?”
“Do what? This?” His thumb returns to that spot.
I tense up, trying to hold myself back from lunging forward onto Nash’s lap and having my way with him right here on the couch.
“Stop it,” I say, trying to wiggle my foot out of his grasp.
“Why?” He smiles. “What does it do to you?”
I’m breathing hard, although I’m trying not to. “Nothing. It’s just…” I relax back on the couch as his thumb moves to the middle of my foot, massaging it with long, steady strokes.
“Would you prefer I do this instead of that other thing?”
Now that I’ve experienced the ‘other thing’ I want more of it. But that would lead to something we shouldn’t be doing, so I answer, “Yes. You should probably just stick with that. What you’re doing now. That’s good.”
“If you ever want the other thing, just let me know.” He shoots a flirty smile at me, then turns back to the TV.
December 14, 2015
Scene from Next to Me – Lunch
Next to Me comes out January 2nd.
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Callie
“There she is,” Lou announces as I walk around him to the lunch counter. Nash is there, wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt, his blue eyes gleaming, a wide grin on his face showcasing those perfect teeth.
Okay, so he’s hot. That explains why I wanted to have lunch with him. I just wanted something nice to look at while I ate. At least that makes sense, but I’m still annoyed at myself for acting this way over some guy.
“How’s your day going?” he asks, turning to me.
“Good. Did you order yet?”
“Yeah. Got the grilled ham and cheese. Got you one too.”
“You ordered for me? Maybe that’s not what I wanted.”
“Well, you could’ve ordered for yourself but you took too damn long. What were you doing back there?”
“None of your business.” I twirl my straw around the Coke he apparently ordered me. “I did your laundry.”
“Yeah, I just picked it up. You even put everything in the dryer. Thanks for doing that.”
I shrug. “You paid me. I was just doing my job.”
He smiles. “What’s going on with you? You in a bad mood?”
“No. Why would you say that?”
“You actually seemed pleasant when you stopped by my house earlier. Now you’re back to being ornery.”
“I’m not ornery. You’re just overly sensitive.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, that’s me. Mr. Sensitive.” He leans over like he did yesterday, his mouth by my ear. “I don’t mind if you’re ornery. I take it as a challenge to make you be nice to me. So bring it on. It’ll just make me show up at your door even more.”
“I’ll just send you away,” I say, trying to hide the rapid breathing his close proximity is causing.
“You won’t if I make you want me around.”
“Why would I want you around?”
“There are many…many reasons.” His tone is full of sexual innuendo and I’m wondering why he’s doing this. He could’ve made a move on me last night but he didn’t. Not even an attempt to kiss me when we said goodbye at my door. So is he just one of those guys who likes to flirt with girls? Even if it doesn’t go anywhere?
“Name one reason I would want you around.”
He leans back, flashing his smile at me. “I’m nice to look at.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh my God. Seriously?”
He laughs. “You should see your face. That was classic.”
“What else you got?”
“I can make you laugh.”
“No you can’t. I hardly ever laugh.” I used to, but that ended the day they died.
“Last night you laughed for hours. All because of me and my made-up stories about the people in the country music lyrics.” He’s right. I did laugh a lot last night. I didn’t realize that until now. “And as I’ve said before, I can fix shit. That should be reason enough to want me around. But if you need more reasons, I could go on all day.”
I laugh. “You’re so conceited.”
“See? Made you laugh.”
A few minutes later, Lou brings out our sandwiches and says to Nash, “You gonna want dessert?”
“I’ll take a slice of that cherry pie.” He points to it in the glass display. “What do I owe you for it?” He gets out his wallet.
“Forget it. It’s on me.”
“Since when do you give away free desserts?” I ask Lou.
“He deserves something for putting up with you.” He chuckles and walks away.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I call after him but he’s back in the kitchen. “He’s been acting strange,” I say to Nash.
We finish our lunch and Nash takes my plate and sets it on his and moves them off to the side. “So what time should we have dinner tonight?”
“We’re not having dinner tonight.”
“Why not? We both have to eat, so why not eat together?” He grins. “You seemed to enjoy my company last night.”
It’s true, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“You have work to do,” I say.
“I still need to take a break for dinner.”
Should I do it? Should I have dinner with him again? I don’t know if I should. The more time we spend together, the more he’ll want to know about me and I don’t want him knowing about me. I’m lost and a mess and I need to spend my time figuring out how to move forward, not hanging out with my neighbor. The problem is, it’s been over a year and I haven’t made much progress in moving forward.
“Okay, but I can’t be out all night,” I say. “We’re just having dinner. That’s it. Let’s eat at six-thirty.”
“Sounds good.” He takes his glass and gets up and goes around the counter to refill it from the dispenser.
“You’re not supposed to be back there.”
“Too late.” He takes my glass. “Want some more?” I nod, and he refills it, then comes back beside me. “So what are you making?”
“What do you mean?”
“For dinner. What are you making?” He’s trying to hide his grin.
“You’re saying I’m supposed to make you dinner?” I gape at him, shocked that he would just assume I’d cook for him.
“It’s your turn. I made dinner last night.”
“You didn’t make dinner. You ordered a pizza.”
“Then I’ll cook for you tomorrow night. There’s a grill in the garage but I have to get some charcoal.”
Lou drops off Nash’s pie, then continues on to deliver pie to a man sitting a few seats down.
“Thanks, Lou,” Nash calls out. Lou nods at him and Nash picks up his fork and digs into the pie.
“I am not making you dinner,” I say.
“It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just throw a frozen meal in the microwave. I’ll need at least two. I eat a lot.” He gets his wallet out and sees it only contains a few dollars. “I forgot to give you the rest of the money I owe you. There’s an ATM on the street. I’ll get it when we’re done.”
“Forget the money.” I turn to him. “If you want a frozen meal, just make it yourself. You have a microwave that works.”
“It’s in the garage. I tore my kitchen up. I can’t use it. And I didn’t say I wanted a frozen meal. I just thought that’d be easier for someone who doesn’t know how to cook.”
“Excuse me, but I know how to cook.”
“So show me.” A sly grin appears. He said that on purpose because he knows I don’t like being told I can’t do something.
“Fine. I’ll cook your stupid meal but it’s not going to be anything fancy. Spaghetti and maybe some cheesy bread. That’s it.”
“No meatballs?” He chuckles. “I need meat, Callie.”
I whack his arm. “Spaghetti. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it. But tomorrow we’re having steaks. Big meaty t-bones.”
“I’m not having dinner with you tomorrow. Tonight’s the last night.”
“We’ll see about that.” He takes the last bite of his pie.
“It’s not happening. You have to learn to eat alone.”
“Once you smell those steaks cooking on the grill, you won’t be able to help yourself. You’ll be right over.”
I give up arguing with him. There’s no point. He’s relentless. I just won’t show up tomorrow and then he’ll see that he’s wrong.
