HOW TO CATCH A BAD BOY

Over her shoulder, Elena gave him a chiding look. “I guess you’ve forgotten that I bake too.”

Chandler held up his hands with a laugh. “Touche, Princess, touche.”

She shook her head. “Of course I can cook and I’m good at it.”

Tugging a chair out from the table with his foot, Chandler took a seat and shamelessly watched her navigate around the small kitchen area.

“How come you and Emily do everything together and yet you and Elijah are not as close as the both of them are?”

Her smile was barely visible as she stirred the sauce. “Emily and I don’t do everything together… At least not anymore,”

Chandler thought about the picture of her and her sister from her apartment. “Did something happen?”

She snorted. “Not exactly. We were … oh,” she sighed, “how do I put this?

I guess after college, living in different states kinda separated us too much…More than we cared to admit,”

Watching as Elena tasted the sauce, then added some salt, he nodded. He could understand that. Carefully, she set the salt down and turned to face him, one hip hitched on the counter. “I’ll make you deal, Chandler.”

“What’s that?”

“A question for a question.” One eyebrow raised slowly in challenge. “You deflect every single time I ask about your past or your family, so if you want to know about mine, then I’ll make it an even trade.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and held her stare. “Some people feel more comfortable than others talking about their childhood. Mine wasn’t traumatic or anything, but that doesn’t mean I want to spill my guts over spaghetti and candlelight.”

At his answer, which was meant to be flippant and casual, Elena’s face flashed with disappointment, and a small seed was planted behind his ribs.

Something uncomfortable and unwanted. But it found someplace to stick, dig itself beneath the surface of whatever armor he’d erected around the parts of himself that still felt like he needed to prove how unhurt he was by his dad and Laura’s treatment.

“Truth or dare,” he amended. His version of a peace offering. “I’ll play, but I can’t guarantee I’ll answer everything.”

Elena weighed that for a long moment, face thoughtful, body language relaxed. “Deal.”

While she finished dinner, he set the table with two dark blue plates he found in the pantry and added some wood to the fire. Outside, the wind picked up, whipping through the trees until they swayed side to side. Still, Elena hadn’t said I told you so for the fact that they were stuck there. Because into this ridiculous storm, they were poised to get over thirteen inches. The accumulating snow wasn’t even what kept them stuck until it died down. Right now, it was the fact that they were so focused on clearing main roads that places like Paul’s were way down on the totem pole.

Elena drained the pasta, releasing a cloud of steam into the air. He got up to find them something to drink. He crouched in front of the pantry, watching Agnes warily as she slinked across the wall in my direction. “Do you know if he has any alcohol hidden in this place?” he asked the cat.

She sat on her haunches and started licking a paw. But she didn’t hiss at him, so he shrugged. He gave it one last look but decided Paul must hate himself since there wasn’t so much as a single bottle of anything in the entire place. “I couldn’t find anything fun to drink,” he told Elena as she set the bowl of pasta in the middle of the small table. “So water it is.”

“I find proper hydration fun.”

“As do I.” Chandler took a seat opposite her and gave her a smile. “Thank you for making dinner.”

Her cheeks flushed pink. “No problem.”

The food was delicious, and he groaned happily at his first bite of the sauce-covered noodles. “This is incredible.”

“Why don’t you ever go home to your family?” she asked without any preamble. “Try to fix things with your dad,”

The noodles lodged in his throat when he coughed in surprise. After a hefty drink of water, he was able to swallow. When he was finally able to speak, his voice was rough. You know, from almost choking to death. “Jumped right in, eh?”

“It’s my turn.” She replied with a smile.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

He sat back in his chair and studied her. “Because that place isn’t my home anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. I moved when I was twenty and never looked back.”

“Why don’t you and Laura get along? What happened?”

“Oooh, no dice, you don’t get two questions in a row.”

Elena tilted her head. “Come on, answer the question,”

Bracing his elbows on the table, he leaned forward and held her gaze. “Why does it bother you so much to figure me out, Elena?”

Elena didn’t brush off his question like he expected her to. She just searched his face. “I think sometimes I’m just as curious about the people who inflict the damage on children as the children themselves. So, while I don’t know Laura very well, I’d never have pegged her as someone to hold the sins of another woman onto an innocent child.”

“I was never innocent,” Chandler answered easily. “I did some boundary pushing of my own when she and my dad got married, not to mention my absolute hellion years in high school. So don’t think I made it easy on Laura to walk into our family.”

She pointed her fork at me. “And now you defend her. See? This is fascinating to me.”

He exhaled heavily. “Can we move to a dare yet?”

“She was obviously rude to you at the dinner, despite the fact that your father’s opinion of her is incredibly valuable to her. I don’t understand how an adult can act like that.”

“You’ve met me, love,” he said with a shrug. “Everything about me bugs Laura and has since day one. Maybe someone else would’ve tried to gain her approval or love, but the last thing I wanted to do was sit in the shit and dwell on it all the time.”

Reading between the lines of his forced casual reply was easy enough for someone as smart as Elena. And wisely, she dropped it.