not my girlfriend,” Cal cut him off. What she actually was, he didn’t know. But girlfriend? Definitely not. She was something else. Another category that he was trying to forget about.
Asher frowned. “I know she said she was just a friend, but you both throw off more-than-friend vibes. And then you guys kinda argued over the brownie mix in a weird way.”
Cal glared at him. “You are this close to being put back on a bus to Virginia.”
Asher winced and then lowered his eyes to his plate.
Cal softened his words by nudging the kid with his foot and shooting him a grin, which Asher returned.
“Whoa.” Brent’s hands were waving in the air. He was a dog with a bone now. “Jenna was here? Yesterday?”
Cal drained his beer. It had been halfway full.
“I like Jenna,” Max said conversationally.
“Spit it out, Cal,” Brent said.
“Can we not discuss this in front of the kid?”
“Hey, I’m sixteen! I don’t like girls anyway.”
Max’s fork fell on the floor. “What?”
Asher’s face paled somewhat, but he turned to his brother. “I’m . . . gay.”
The table was silent for a minute. Cal raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t seen that one coming.
Brent pointed his finger at Asher. “Nice diversion with the gay news, but I’m way more interested in why Jenna was here.”
Cal was done with this. “We spent the night together. She was here when Asher showed up, and that’s the end of the discussion.”
Asher picked at his napkin. “She was really nice to me. Got my room all set up, and then we ran into her at the grocery store. She made sure we got food that was healthy and easy to make because Cal isn’t so good at that.”
She’d also talked to Asher respectfully, like he was an adult. The kid was clearly craving some sort of parental unit, because he’d walked around the grocery store gazing adoringly at Jenna as she laughed with him and touched his forearm affectionately.
Brent was still looking at Cal through narrow eyes. “Yeah, she’s pretty damn amazing, isn’t she, Cal?”
“Brent—”
“You can’t threaten to put me on a bus, so shut up.”
“Look, it was one night, and that was it. Done.”
Asher’s head shot up, his face pale. “What?”
Cal frowned. “Look, kid, I don’t have time to get into it, but Jenna and I have . . . history. A lot of it. But that’s all it is. History. Past. Not present.” Not future either. Maybe if he told himself that enough times, he’d actually believe it.
Asher looked heartbroken. “B-but I like her. I was hoping we could do something to thank her for today.”
Well, shit. “Uh—”
Brent placed his chin in his hand. “I saw a box of brownies in your cabinet. Are they for something? Because if not, you should make those. And then take them over there and thank her in person. Women love that shit.”
Those fucking brownies. Cal kicked Brent’s shin, and his brother didn’t even flinch but instead grinned at him.
Asher nodded eagerly. “Yeah, let’s make her those brownies! Girls like brownies, right?”
“Of course,” said Brent, still grinning.
“Everyone likes brownies,” Max added.
Cal worked on breathing deeply so he didn’t explode. Because this avoiding-Jenna plan? Well, he’d had it for about a half hour before it reached its first roadblock.
Fucking feelings.
“So what are you gonna do while you’re here, Asher?” Brent asked. “You want to help out at the shop?”
Asher perked up, like a puppy. “Wait, could I? For real?”
“I’m not sure if cars are really your thing, but—”
“Do you work on bikes too?” he asked.
Cal wanted this entire dinner to end, because none of these conversations were happy places for him. “Not right now, kid, but I’d like to.”
Asher’s face fell a little. “Oh, I wasn’t sure because I saw your bike, so I thought . . . ” He shook himself and focused on Cal. “Would you give me a ride on it?”
Cal frowned. The kid would need a better helmet, and the thought of putting him on the back of the bike made Cal anxious. “How’s this: you help out at the shop for a little bit, couple of weeks, and then I’ll see about getting you a ride on the bike.”
Asher made a fist pump. “Yessss.”
“Hey, kid?” Brent said.
“Yeah?”
He grinned. “You start tomorrow.”
JENNA SIPPED HER wine and tried to focus on the text of her e-reader. It was a good part too. The hero was groveling. And he needed to grovel after the shit he pulled. The heroine was making him work for it