Page 46 of Love Expert

ROUND EIGHTEEN

MAGGIE

I stride up Billy’s porch steps at six on the dot, sweaty from rushing around, and starving since I haven’t eaten since… I don’t even know. Breakfast, maybe. Bringing my hand up, I prepare to knock, but before I get the chance, the front door swings wide and the cutest toothless little boy ever jumps into view.

“Hi, Maggie!” He bounds through the door and latches onto my hand with enough enthusiasm to make me forget my empty stomach. He entwines our fingers and wraps his other arm around my torso in a grunting, squeezing hug. Extra grunts. Extra squeezes. “You’ve been gone all day, huh?” He pulls back far enough to look into my eyes, tipping his head back so his moppy hair flops with the movement. “I went next door when I got home from school to see if you were around, but you weren’t.”

“I was working.” I lower into a crouch and cup his sweet, still-kinda-chubby cheek in my palm. “I had a big day today. I have big days every day, actually.” My brows pinch closer as that old, constant friend—anxiety—tickles my stomach.

Always working. Always one foot in front of the other.

“But I’m excited to be here now.”

“You wanna make mini pizzas for dinner again?” Dirt streaks his face, and a section of his hair stands tall, while all the rest flops. His shirt is stretched at the collar, and his pants… are the white, full-length kind kids wear to karate class.

He’s adorable, even when he’s messy.

“We have enough ingredients, we can make pizzas again, and I know how to do it, so I could cook, and you could sit down for a bit. When my dad works all day, sometimes he likes to sit on the couch and stare at the wall for a while.”

I choke out a soft laugh, my breath feathering across his face and notching his smile higher.

“Have you already started making the pizzas?”

“No. But all the stuff is in the fridge, and it won’t take long.”

“Well… do you like pasta?”

His eyes grow impossibly wide. “Yuh! I like pasta. But not the pasta with fishy stuff in it.”

“What about creamy pasta with chicken?”

He licks his lips, like a big goofball puppy dog would. “I love cream, I love chicken, and I love pasta!” But then his smile drops. “I don’t know how to make that, though. And Dad probably won’t let me, since pasta gets hot.”

“How about we cook it together? I’mstarrrving.” I tickle his ribs and earn a peeling, squealing laugh. “Pasta’s always the best for my tummy when I’m super hungry, and it doesn’t take long to cook. I could teach you, and there would probably even be leftovers, so your dad can take some to work tomorrow.”

“Yes! Okay!” He bobs his head with frenzied movements. “I wanna do that.”

“Alright.” Straightening my sore legs, I take his hand again and glance through the still-open door. “Should we go in? Your dad’s probably waiting for me.”

“Yuh!” He spins on his heels and takes off, his hand still wrapped around mine, so my shoulder jerks and my breath remains somewhere back on the porch. “He’s in his room!” Jeremy slingshots me toward the stairs and stays back only long enough to close the front door. Dashing up behind me, he pushes with his hands on the small of my back. “He said he was getting dressed for his meeting. But that I should send you up as soon as you get here. Dad!”

“Yeah.” Billy’s low, grumbling voice filters along the second-story hall, then around to weave its way down the stairs. “In my room.”

“Maggie’s here, Dad!” Jeremy herds me up the steps and to the right as soon as we hit the landing. “She’s gonna teach me how to cook pasta for dinner.” He lobs me across the threshold and dashes around to look his father up and down.

His shirtless father…

His shirtless father who wears jeans only, and socks, but no shoes. With wet hair, the ends standing in different directions, and eyes that burn straight into my soul.

Abs!

“Uh…”

“Hey. You’re here.” Billy turns from the mirror and shows off two different shirts, both still on hangers. The olive Henley I already mentioned today, and a white one. Same size, same design, same fit. Just a different color. “Which one?”

Pecs.

You should wear the pecs.