It's Not About You (9 page)

I stood where I was as Gerald rubbed his hands together and followed Kyle out of the kitchen. Michael trailed behind them and stopped in front of me. He wore a nice white button down shirt and soft jeans. He pushed his glasses up on his head and looked down at me with a smirk on his lips. "You know…" he said in a soft voice. "I could have sworn Kyle was gay."
 

I didn't know what to say, so I changed the subject. I didn't want my roomie to get into trouble. I could never do that to my best friend. "So…did Mary show you how to use the press properly?" O
h..shit…did I just sound jealous? Cause that sounded jealous to me.
 

Whatever tone I'd just used, Michael noticed something as his brow arched. "Yeah. She did. But we'll know if she was successful later, won't we?" He moved into the dining room and I let go of a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I was panicking…but for what? Why? What did it matter?
 

Michael Oliver was a good looking younger man. And now he believed I was Kyle's girlfriend. And if Kyle knew this was the guy I'd been pining over, he would have a short but dramatic freak out. I went back to the fridge, took another hit off that glass, grabbed the two wines, red and white, and brought them to the table as the warmth from that tater juice dulled my happy place and beyond.
 

Dinner went great for the first half. I helped serve and Kyle poured wine. I discovered that mixing a Riesling with Tater Juice was a bad,
very
bad idea. Though it took the edge off my nervousness, it also made way for me to saying things I shouldn't say. So I just sort of commented only when I knew I could reign in my tongue.
 

The food was delicious. Kyle was so good at this. The mashed potatoes and chops were the talk of the other two and I caught myself watching Michael as he ate. It wasn't something I usually did, but I liked the way his jaw worked up and down as he chewed, and the way he drank. I was looking for a flaw. Something I could latch onto and be done with this crazy crush.
 

But I couldn't find a damn thing! Curses!

Gerald kicked back and rubbed his spacious stomach. The man had eaten three chops, his lobster tail and half of mine, three helpings of mashed potatoes and two helpings of green beans. I kept thinking he was going to explode like that guy in the Monty Python skit.
Don't give him a mint!
"Grace…the food was excellent, just like the last time."
 

"Oh it wasn't me this time." I held my water glass in front of me as I talked. Why? Who the hell knows? I'm an idiot. "It was Kyle. I worked on the potatoes but he wanted to work on our last cooking lesson to make it better."
 

"Cooking lesson?" Michael said. He has his hands in his lap. I liked how his glasses, now propped on top of his head, kept his hair out of his eyes.
 

"Kyle and Grace take cooking lessons," Gerald said as he picked up his own glass of wine. "Something they do together and I think it's remarkable." He nodded to Michael. "Michael here is single. And from the looks of him, he needs a good woman to cook for him. Grace…don't you have a sister?"
 

Oh. Damn. Asshole. "Yes I do, Gerald. But you know she's happily married with two kids."
 

"Yes…you're right. And how is your daughter? She in college now?"
 

I could feel Michael's eyes on me as I focused on Gerald and imagined the death of a thousand burps on him. "She's loving college. Just started her second year."
 

"She's a beautiful girl, Michael. Too bad she's too young for you. Just as pretty as her mother used to be."
 

Ouch.
 

Just…fucking
ouch
.
 

"I'm afraid you have me all wrong, Gerald. And you have Grace wrong as well." Michael picked up his wine and I chanced a look at him. "I think Grace is beautiful as she is. Age doesn't make a woman less desirable. It only makes them more experienced." He sipped his wine, his eyes on me.
 

What… What did he say?

Kyle nudged me under the table. I nudged him back. He wanted to know what that comment meant. So did I. He pushed back from the table. "How about that cheesecake? And Michael can make the coffee?"
 

"Why don't you and Gerald settle into the living room," Michael said as he pushed back from the table. "Grace can get the cheecsecake and I can make the coffee. That way if I mess it up, she can help me?"
 

It was a bold request to make, especially after the comment he'd made seconds earlier. I glanced at Gerald who didn't seem to be getting the innuendoes flying about. Probably because his stomach was zapping his brain. He nodded as he stood and then proceeded Kyle into the living room.
 

I grabbed a few dishes and stepped into the kitchen as Michael brought his plate in and as well as Gerald's. He set them on the sink and then opened the box and pulled the press out. If he'd used it earlier, then he'd professionally cleaned it because it looked new.
 

As I moved to the freezer he reached out and took my hand. I looked back at him and felt a weight under his intense blue gaze. When he spoke, his voice was little more than a whisper. "Kyle's gay."
 

I panicked and despite my attraction and nervousness, put my other hand against his lips. "Sshh…don't say that. Gerald can't know that."
 

He smiled beneath my fingers and gently pulled my hand away from his mouth—but he didn't let go of either of my hands. "You've been his beard since he's worked for the company?"
 

"I've been his beard since I've known him." I kept my voice low as I was aware we were standing between the island and the sink, less than a few inches from each other, with my hands in his hands. "We've been best friends a long time."
 

"Now it makes sense." He nodded to the press. "Make you a deal. You help me make the coffee and I won't say anything."
 

"But…I thought you had Mary teach you?"
 

"Mary was only interested in getting into my pants. Once I figured that out I took her home. And it's important to impress Gerald Almondrode. Important for me, and for Kyle. So…deal?"
 

I stared into those beautiful blue eyes. No one's eyes should be that color. It wasn't fair. I looked down his nose to his lips, so perfectly proportioned. "Deal."
 

I couldn't believe how relieved I suddenly felt, knowing that he knew that I was Kyle's beard, and me knowing that he and Mary hadn't slept together. "Michael…you have to let go of me."
 

"Only if I can kiss you."
 

Wait….what?
 

My ears closed up at that moment as my vision tunneled on him. Me…he wanted to kiss…me? He still had hold of my hands. I know I had that deer-in-the-headlights look as I stumbled at what to say. "I…"
 

But he didn't ask again as he lowered his head and pressed his lips against mine.
 

"Grace?"
 

Kyle's voice shattered that perfect moment as I remembered where I was, who I was, and what I was
supposed
to be doing. Michael and I pulled back from each other as if shocked. But it was too late—Kyle had already seen the lip lock. And my knees were in danger of collapsing.
 

"Oh hey Kyle," I managed to say as I started pulling coffee out of the Trader Joe's bag.
 

My roomie stood at the door, his arms at his side, and his eyes bigger than golfballs. "Grace…can I have a word?"
 

"Sure."
Shit
. I put the coffee on the island counter and pointed at the water kettle by the sink. "Can you use an electric kettle?"
 

"Yeah but—"
 

"Fill it to the mark and turn it on." I didn't give him a chance to respond as I moved around the island and followed Kyle from the kitchen to the hall past the front door.
 

"Gerald, we'll be right back. Grace is having a problem with her dress."
 

"Oh…you take your time," Gerald said and chuckled.
 

Ew. How could a man make a generic sentence sound so dirty?
 

We went to my bedroom at the end of the hall and stepped inside. Kyle shut the door and took a deep breath before he said, "Grace…"
 

"Look, don't freak out, okay? Remember the guy I was telling you about earlier? When I was smashing potatoes?"
 

He paused and blinked, then pointed at the door. "That's him? Michael Oliver?"
 

"Yeah. That's him."
 

"Grace, he's not in his twenties, he's like early thirties and he's…" He said then lowered his arm. "Is obviously straight. Damn. Maybe that's why my 'dar didn't work."
 

"Yeah…maybe. But I didn't know he was going to kiss me."
 

"Grace…kissing aside and trust me I know how much you need to be kissed," Kyle put his hands on my shoulders. "Gerald Almondrode can not see you two kissing. Him and his traditional values would flip out. Not only would he feel sorry for me since it would look like my girlfriend was cheating on me with the new guy, he'll fire Michael."
 

"Then we have to tell Gerald the truth about us. About you!" I made sure to keep my voice down.
 

"Then he'll fire me, and it'll be in some sneaky way." He straightened and raked his fingers through his hair. "Shit!" he hissed.
 

"Look," I held out my hands, palms up. "Michael and I will behave perfectly, okay? No more kissing." And of course my stomach lurched when I promised that.
 

I wanted kissing! More kissing!
 

"Just through this evening, okay? So let's make coffee, serve some cheese cake and then we can get Gerald out of here."
 

"Okay."
 

Kyle made a long sigh before he put a hand to my face. "Gracie…I've wanted you to find some young guy to grind till your heart's content since your divorce was final, and now it looks like I might be the thing that stands between the two of you."
 

"No. There's no two of you, or us two. Whatever. I don't know what's going on. He's got glasses. I didn't see glasses before. Maybe he can't see really well and doesn't realize I'm old."
 

Kyle put his finger in my face. "Stop that.
Now
. You are not old. You are beautiful, and good hearted. And you're a hell of a lot of fun. And you have me for a best friend so," he said before he winked. "If I hear you say you're old again I'm going to pull out your high school annuals."
 

"No!" I said that a little louder than I meant to.
 

Kyle covered my mouth with his hand and we both fell into each other's arms laughing.
 

"I need to make sure Michael doesn't burn the coffee." After squeezing Kyle's hand, I opened the door to find Michael standing just outside, his hand raised as if to knock.
 

"Oh…uh…the kettle shut off."
 

I slipped past him as I caught Kyle waving and motioned Michael to follow me. "Okay so, how fine is the coffee ground?" I proceeded him into the kitchen and grabbed the bag he brought. Spilling a bit into my palm I could see the texture.
 

"Is that important?" Michael asked as he came to stand beside me and Kyle grabbed the cheese cake out of the fridge.
 

"It will increase or decrease time that it steeps."
 

Michael whipped out his phone and started thumb texting. Kyle removed the cheese cake from the box and put it on a nice platter, then with a look at me, took it into the living room.
 

"Okay is this right?" He showed the screen, which had images of grounds and times. I looked at the pile in my hand, picked a time and measured out the amount and tossed it into the carafe. Grabbing the hot kettle, I poured the coffee to the appropriate line and Michael set a counter on his phone.
 

We stood watching the steeping coffee in awkward silence.
 

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft, barely a whisper.
 

I saw his hand on the counter and reached over to touch his pinky. "I'm not." I looked up at him and he looked down at me. "But we need to talk."
 

He nodded as his timer went off. Kyle came back in to grab forks and small plates as I put the press into the carafe and then slowly eased it down. The grounds were trapped under the strainer and the coffee sieved above.
 

On cue Kyle grabbed a nice ceramic coffee service out of the cabinet, the one that matched the small plates, and after a quick rinse in the sink I poured the coffee into it. Michael took his cue and grabbed the small carton of creamer, I grabbed the sugar and substitute and together set the coffee table as a nice after dinner desert area.