Lisa’s eyebrows knit together. “Cooking? What does she need help with?”

Wes looked between the two of us helplessly. “The pan?”

“Are you asking?”

“Can you just help?” He put his hands together in a begging motion. “Please?”

“Men.” Lisa shot up off the floor and left the room.

Wes sat down in her spot and took a piece of pizza.

“Yeah, you’re the worst liar I’ve ever seen.”

“Tell me about it.” He winked. “Anyway, we’re having a surprise birthday party for Lisa tomorrow night. I want you to come.” He held up his hand. “Correction. We want you to come. We all do.”

“But—”

“Nope, the only way you’re getting out of is if you have a high fever, get hit by a car, or you’re puking into a toilet. And even then I’ll need to see the thermometer, the doctor’s bill, and-or the puke.”

I hesitated a breath, taking in his piercing blue eyes and chiseled features. “You’re weird.”

He set the pizza down and leaned forward. Holy crap. How was Kiersten able to actually look at him in the face without falling over and swooning? It wasn’t that I was attracted to him or anything, but man, he was pretty.

“Yeah, well…” He shrugged. “Let’s just say I don’t want you to miss it, okay?”

“What time?”

“Five.”

“Do I need to dress up or anything? I’ll be volunteering tomorrow at the Pacific Northwest Group Home again.”

“Nah.” He waved me off. “Just wear clothes.”

“Good advice.”

He laughed. “I’m the king of advice, what can I say?”

“Aw, you two kids bonding?” Lisa said entering the room again. “Oh and Wes, Kiersten needed help with finding the cooking spray for the pan.”

He snapped his fingers. “That was it.”

Lisa’s eyes narrowed. “Sometimes I wonder about you.”

I took a sip of soda.

“It’s the drugs,” he said in a serious voice, causing me to choke on the leftover Diet Pepsi in my mouth.

“He means the good ones,” Lisa added.

I looked between them.

“Legal drugs,” Wes explained. “To keep me healthy. Just in case cancer tries to come back and make me its bitch.”

“R-right.” My voice was hoarse from choking.

Wes smiled that same blinding smile that belonged on every freaking billboard in America and pushed to his feet. “Alright ,ladies, have fun with your pizza party. I’m going to go help my fiancée in the kitchen.”

“Kissing her and trying to make her wear the sexy apron isn’t helping!” Lisa shouted after him.

“A guy can try!” he yelled back.

The minute the door shut behind him Lisa’s gaze narrowed in on me. “What did Wes want?”

“Uh, to give me advice.”

“He should have majored in Psychology.” She shook her head.

“Yeah, that or modeling.”

Snorting, Lisa tossed a piece of sausage in her mouth, “Ain’t that the truth. Alright, let’s finish writing up our stupid reports from the past four weeks so we can watch crap reality TV.”

“Deal.” I pulled out my computer and started typing.

Three hours later and we were halfway through the first season of New Girl. Every time the door opened my heart sped up a bit — hoping to catch a glimpse of Gabe. Lisa said they hung out twenty-four seven.

Just as we were starting the second season, the door flew open and Gabe strolled in, his eyes focused on a box in his hands. “Lisa, it’s time for you to dye my hair again. It’s already lightning up and I’m getting strange looks from—”

Lisa cleared her throat.

Gabe looked up.

“Hi.” I waved from the couch. Lame. I should have at least smiled brighter, but I was too busy being completely affected by his proximity and a bit confused as to why he needed to dye his hair — as if he was keeping it dark for a reason.

A muscle clenched in his jaw. “Hey.”

“He gets gray hair,” Lisa explained.

“What?” he roared.

“And old ladies hit on him.” She examined her nails. “Pisses him off, so he makes me dye it. Isn’t that right, Gabe?” She smiled brightly while he glowered at her like she’d just kicked him in the balls and said you’re welcome.

“Right. I’m a cougar magnet.”

“Cool.” I fought a smile. “So why do you dye it darker? Why not go blond or something?”

The smile froze on Lisa’s face.

Gabe smirked. “Black, just like my soul.”

“Wow. Should have seen that one coming,” I replied, falling into an easy laughter with both him and Lisa.

“Why don’t you do it?” She pressed pause on the TV.

“Do what?” Both Gabe and I asked in unison.

Lisa huffed and got up from the couch. “Dye Gabe’s hair. Besides, I just got my nails done.” She snatched the box from his hands and threw it at me.

I caught it midair and watched as Gabe’s eyes narrowed in on his cousin, that same jaw flexing even tighter this time like he’d just bit down on something hard. “But Lisa, you actually have experience dying hair.”

“Hey!” I acted offended. I had no idea what I was doing.

Lisa smacked him. “She’s a girl. Dying hair is as natural as breathing.”

“Doubt that.” They engaged in a silent stare down while I looked on.

Gabe tore his gaze away from her and swore. “Fine, but if I wake up with bald spots and earn the nickname patch for the rest of the semester I’m blaming you.”

“As much as I’d enjoy that…” I got up from the couch and made my way toward the bathroom. “I’ll do my best to make sure all hair stays on your head and not in my clutches. Deal?”

“On second thought…” Gabe came around the couch with a wolfish grin. “If you’re pulling my hair — damn, I may like that.”

“Dip your balls in some cold water before you go in that bathroom and shut the door, will ya?” Lisa asked. “I don’t want my friend getting taken advantage of on school property.”

“Chill.” Gabe winked at Lisa and licked his lips. “If I wanted to take advantage of her I sure as hell wouldn’t start on your bathroom floor.”

“And the visual images just keep coming,” Lisa sang. “Remember, Gabe. She walks in with her virtue. I expect her to leave with the same.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Gabe called, then followed me into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The bathroom suddenly felt fifty times too small as he maneuvered around me, put the toilet seat down, and sat.

Hands shaking, I pulled out the instructions and started reading.

All the while noticing that Gabe hadn’t said a word once we were alone.

“Your hands are shaking.” He finally pointed out.

“Well. you’re making me nervous because you keep tapping your foot.” I snapped.

“Oh.” He stopped tapping. “Sorry.”

I blew out the breath I’d been holding in and concentrated harder on the instructions. “It’s fine.”

A few seconds went by.

“If you stare any harder at that paper you’re going to burn holes through it.”

“Do you mind?” I asked. “Or are you a fan of going bald at twenty-one?”

“Twenty-two,” he corrected. “And sorry.”

I read the last bit of instructions and went to work, all the while hoping that I really didn’t end up burning all of his dark hair off. Though I had to admit, I wouldn’t mind… because for some reason, dark hair really didn’t suit him.

The most erotic touch a man can experience is that of a woman digging her nails into his scalp and giving a little tug. —Gabe H., Wes M., and all men… everywhere.

Gabe

So the whole ignore Saylor for a few days and try to get her out of my head thing? Didn’t go as planned.

I dreamt of her.

I dreamt of her music.

Her kiss.

Her stupid laugh.

It was aggravating to say the least — especially when I was supposed to be focused on making sure my dad didn’t pop up at the Home again.

Things had been quiet. Too quiet. Even Wes was a bit concerned. He helped me hire the best private investigator money could buy. And still nothing.