Nerdelicious

by Mary Frame

Can’t leave Grace and Jude. They’re my only family. You have your parents, I have them.

  “I get it.” Though I don’t like it. Why can’t they move for him if he would stay for them?

  Blue Falls might not be the best, but it’s something. Maybe I’ll open a restaurant someday or maybe I’ll take over your job at Bodean’s when you leave.

  “Usurper,” I accuse. Then I nudge him with my elbow. “It’s an assistant type job, but Lucas is talented. And you would be good at it.”

  Maybe.

  “Why wouldn’t you be?”

  He huffs out a breath. Points at his mouth.

  “That’s not an impediment. Most people talk too much, and then they don’t shut up and ramble out nonsense.”

  I’m not sure I’ve met anyone that meets that description.

  “Hardy har har.”

  I can’t see his face in the dim light, just the edge of his profile limned in moonlight. I wish I could make him understand his own potential. I can’t let him make the same mistakes I made.

  “Because of Jack, I put aside all of my aspirations or thoughts of doing anything for myself. No.” I shake my head. “That’s not right, because of myself, I made the awful decision to put Jack first. The problem was he was putting Jack first, too. I put everything into our relationship. If I had made myself a priority, or recognized my own value and had the strength to stand up for myself, I wouldn’t be here.”

  He jabs his phone with hard fingers. Jack was an idiot.

  “Agreed.”

  Even a friend wouldn’t ask you to give things up for them.

  “You’re probably right. But it was my fault, too. Don’t make my mistakes. Beast, I care about you and I want you to put you first.”

  It’s not that easy.

  He’s typing again, so I’m watching over his shoulder when his phone lights up with an incoming text.

  I can’t wait to see you!!! Where are you taking me on our first date? You should pick somewhere we get to dress up!! Or maybe go dancing!!!

  Followed by heart eye emoji and a woman dancing in a red dress emoji.

  The words are as welcome as a screw twisting in my stomach.

  In the dim light, his jaw is hard and unsmiling. What is he thinking? He’s not the type to go for a fancy dinner and dancing. I don’t know how I know that, but I just do. Having to talk to people, order food, drive Caroline somewhere while she bears the brunt of holding up their conversation and all that considering they barely know each other . . .

  But I can’t tell what’s going through his mind. He stares at the phone. Then he switches over to the notepad app. Maybe I should break it off.

  My response is automatic, even though it kills me to say it, the words like spitting shards of glass. “No. Don’t do that. We’ll figure something else out that’s not so . . . complicated. Something she’ll enjoy that you’re comfortable with, too.”

  He pauses for a long moment, head tilted back, staring up at the sky. He’s a statue of tension for a full minute before he takes a breath and types again.

  You think she’ll be open to an alternate suggestion?

  “Probably. She clearly likes you a lot.” I can’t believe I’m defending her. The last thing I want is to see her hanging all over Beast at work, but that isn’t fair. We may be diametrically opposed foes, but Beast’s happiness is more important to me than my own vicious jealousy.

  There are other issues.

  “What do you mean?”

  I’ve noticed she can be . . . rude. Not to me, but to others.

  “You mean at Bodean’s.”

  He nods.

  “Yeah, I’ve served her before. But she was with her friends and probably distracted. Besides, I’m a Yank and sometimes the Southern hospitality is so overdone it all feels condescending. I’m used to New Yorkers yelling at me on the street for getting into the taxi they wanted. Not all that ‘bless your heart’ when it really means you’re an ass.”

  His lips twitch, but he’s distracted, his gaze glued to the phone. He flips back over to the text conversation and stares at it, fingers unmoving.

  “Tell her you’ll plan a surprise. Then you can get all dressed up and make her a fancy meal yourself with your mad cooking skills. You can plan for it somewhere romantic, but you won’t have to try and communicate with other people and make it complicated. It’ll be great.” I force enthusiasm into my tone, but the words are strained.

  He follows my direction and is rewarded with even more exclamation points and emojis.

  Yep. It will be super-duper great.

  I’ve got a front row seat to Beast’s love life, a demise of my own making. Every text, every piece of advice, every question on how to be with her, they’re all like the sharpest of filleting knives, slicing a little further.

  Thank you for helping me.

  Slice.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Yes, that is Love—that wind

  Of terrible and jealous beauty, blowing

  Over me—that dark fire, that music . . .

  –Cyrano de Bergerac

  * * *

  The kitchen is so hot, I’m seriously contemplating whether I can fit in the freezer.

  “Lucas. My boob sweat is turning into Wakanda Falls.”

  He presses his lips together, shaking his head. “Does that mean it’s challenge day?”

  Surprised, I laugh. “I’ll let you know if I ascend the throne.”

  I can’t believe he got the reference. Last week I dropped a glass in the bar area and said, “Dammit, Janet.” Eliza gave me a weird look and asked, “Who’s Janet?”

  How does anyone go their whole lives without a little Rocky Horror?

  I finish sanitizing the cutting board I was using and then take out the trash, enjoying all the most glamorous aspects of working in a kitchen.

  “I’ll be right back,” I call before running out the door. There’s a slight lull—Tuesday nights aren’t as bad as the rest of the week—so I don’t feel too bad about leaving Lucas to suffer alone.

  But I almost run right back into hell’s kitchen as soon as I exit. Just as I’m making my way to the back, at the front door, Caroline jumps all over Beast like a hyperactive puppy.

  She must have just arrived.

  Wincing, I avert my eyes and race down the back hallway, past the public bathrooms and Ranger’s office and out into the night air. I chuck the garbage in the bin and slam the lid down. And then wait.

  So it’s not normally where I like to spend my time. It’s barely cooler here than it is in the kitchen, and it smells like old food and ass, but I can’t go back in there and watch Beast with Caroline. I just can’t.

  It’s been a week since the campout, and Beast and I have settled back into our nice, normal, friendly routine. And I hate it. He hasn’t asked me to help him with Caroline anymore, but I know they’ve been texting. And now, she’s back. And she’s here.

  After I’ve dawdled as long as possible, I make my way back inside. At least dealing with the heat in the kitchen is better than being stuck at the bar and watching the Beast and Caroline show.

  “I’ve got it covered,” Lucas says as soon as he sees me. “But the bar is busy. Eliza wants help.”

  “Great.” Perfect. Wonderful. I can do this. I just won’t let my eyes stray to the front door. Problem solved.

  My plan is working out to perfection. I stay busy hustling drinks behind the bar for about an hour. But then . . .

  “Um, excuse me? Bartender? I asked for three cherries and there’s only two.”

  Caroline. She’s leaning against the end of the bar, glaring at me like I peed in her drink instead of forgetting one small itty-bitty little cherry.

  “Sorry about that.” I use a bright blue, sword-shaped cocktail pick and stab a cherry from the dish behind the counter. I reach over to put it in her drink.

  She pulls the glass back before I can drop it in. “Uh, excuse me, I would like you to make me another drink.”

  I tilt
my head. “You want another of the same or something different?”

  “I want the drink I ordered, made correctly this time. And I shouldn’t have to pay for any of it.” Then she puts the martini glass to her lips and takes a long sip, eyeing me over the rim.

  “Um. I’m confused. You want to drink that one,” I point the skewered cherry at her, “but you also want a new one? And you don’t want this cherry?” I hold it up. “And you want it all free?”

  “Do you not speak English?”

  My jaw clenches against a snarky retort. But something slips out anyway. “BIlugh ‘e’ DaHar’a’,” I say, which literally translates into you’re a dumb twat in Klingon.

  She frowns. “What?”

  I hesitate. I can’t exactly keep insulting the customers, even in fictional languages. “Your request is irrational and you’re a condescending harpy.” Oops. Guess I insulted her in her native language.

  Her mouth pops open in outrage but before she can respond, I’m saved.

  “Oh, Beast.” Caroline’s entire demeanor morphs from insulting shrew to bubbly coed when he stops next to her. “Is it your break time now?” Her voice is all bright, smooth notes flavored with innocence.

  He nods.

  “I’ll go with you.” She dimples up at him and one corner of his mouth inches upward.

  And suddenly I want to stab myself with the cocktail sword. He smiled at her. A small one, but still.

  Jealousy twists and tangles itself into knots in my stomach. I want to She-Hulk Smash.

  My face must show some emotion because Beast watches me, brow furrowing.

  I huck the cherry in the trash. “I’ll grab you some food from the kitchen. Be there in a sec.” Eliza is at the other end of the bar with a customer. “Be right back,” I yell.

  In the kitchen, I plate up the special, crawfish étouffée, and then cut a hunk of freshly baked french bread and throw it on top.

  I will bring Beast his food. Smile. Act normal. Show them that everything is okay and I don’t care if Beast smiles at a blonde parasite who makes Lex Luthor seem like a philanthropist. A parasite I helped set him up with.

  But there’s no chance for nonchalance. I push open the door to the office and freeze, rendered immobile by a surge of dread edged with panic.

  Beast is sitting on the couch, Caroline next to him. But that’s not what has me wanting to vomit. Caroline is leaning over kissing Beast, her lips grazing one corner of his mouth. Though by the time the door has swung fully open, he’s yanked away from her.

  She pulls back, blinking rapidly. “Oh.”

  What the hell?

  “Here’s your food.” I put the plate on the table and turn back, bolting out of the room and shutting the door firmly behind me.

  I stand there for a few, heartbreaking seconds. The rapid beat inside my chest constricts my breath. I can’t get enough air. I make it as far as the kitchen but then stop outside the door, hiding in the little alcove by the swinging doors. I can’t go back out to the bar like this.

  Even while my body is spiraling in panic, my mind cycles through emotions, trying to make sense of it. I am being ridiculous. He’s not mine to pine over. I’m leaving. I’m not staying here. There is nothing for me here. I can’t live in Blue Falls and work at Bodean’s for the rest of my life. It’s not meant to be. Besides, he wants Miss Caroline Perfect Pout. Not Piranha-Face-Fred. It’s okay for him to go after her. I have no rights to this overreaction. I’m the one who told him we were a mistake.

  My eyes are screwed shut, heart pounding in my ears, so when a gentle touch lands on my arm I almost leap out of my skin.

  “Beast,” I breathe.

  He points at me, then makes the okay sign. You okay?

  “I’m fine.”

  He tugs on my arm, gentle but firm. Two hard shakes of his head. His eyes are locked on to me, his jaw a hard edge of granite. A muscle twitches in his cheek and then he mouths, Not fine. Lying.

  “It’s . . . we can’t talk now. I’ll tell you later, okay?” I turn to flee. I’ve got to get back to the bar.

  He stops me, a hand on my shoulder. His brow is creased, eyes troubled, blinking, his breath coming in short pants between parted lips. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in this state. Oddly, the reaction soothes my own whirling emotions.

  He points a hard finger at me, then makes a talking motion with his thumb and fingers, open and shut.

  You. Talk.

  I grab his titan hand and give it a squeeze. “Beast. Everything will be fine, I promise. I can’t do this right now. I have to get to work. But I swear we’ll talk later. Okay?” I stalk away before he can respond, not looking back.

  Back at the bar, I throw myself into work, taking orders, mixing drinks, restocking the beer cooler, trying to get my mind off the vision in the office. I can’t think about it or I might hurt someone. Someone blonde.

  After I help Eliza catch up, I wait on a couple of tables that have filled. I’m at the bar, waiting for Eliza to put the last drink on the tray, when she asks me, “What’s up with Beast?”

  “There’s nothing happening with me and Beast.”

  She laughs. “I didn’t ask— You know what, never mind. Will you slice more limes when you’re done bringing these drinks to table nine?” She puts the drink on a tray.

  Keeping busy is a good idea. I can’t get the image of Caroline out of my head. Leaning toward him. Kissing him. Her lips on his skin. I used to be the last person he’d kissed. The only one. Now it’s Caroline.

  And I thought she was nice and normal and good for Beast. Pfft.

  Once I drop off the drinks at table nine and bus a few empties, I grab a bag of limes and a chef’s knife.

  It’s rather satisfying, slicing through the hard citrus and chunking the results into the garnish holder.

  “What did that lime ever do to you?” Eliza asks, a laugh in her voice.

  “You asked me to cut them.” Slam. Slam. Slam.

  “I can see that. Very exuberantly. I like your enthusiasm.”

  Somehow, I make it through the rest of the shift. Somehow, I only glance twice—maybe three times—at the front where Beast is manning the door. Somehow, I don’t scream at the top of my lungs every time Caroline reaches over to touch Beast. Somehow, I don’t throw the knife at Eliza when Beast is stacking chairs at the end of the night and she casually mentions she purchased him a size too-small on purpose. I have to grind my teeth, but I get through it. Time moves inexorably forward. And then finally it’s over.

  But with that realization comes a new wave of anxiety. I have to talk to Beast. Tell him why I’m upset.

  How do I explain that I want to be around him all the time? That I want to know everything about him? That I don’t want any other women touching him or kissing him? I’m a total psycho.

  Beast is outside in the front lot with Caroline while I lag behind, taking too long to say good night to the others.

  I know I can’t avoid him forever, but I’m hoping to avoid witnessing the inevitable good-night kiss with Caroline. Or worse. What if he drops me off at Granny’s and leaves to meet up with her?

  I walk out with Lucas but stop on the front porch.

  Lucas keeps walking. “You and Beast drive careful.” He looks up at the sky and then back at me. “Storms a’comin.”

  “Okay. You, too.”

  He waves a hand and gets in his car.

  On the other side of the parking lot, Beast is at his truck, leaning against the driver’s door, Caroline standing in front of him.

  They hug. My heart twists. Caroline kisses his cheek. My stomach revolts.

  Then she leaves. She gets into her vehicle and pulls out behind Lucas.

  I force my gaze back to Beast.

  He’s watching me. Thunder booms in the distance. He jerks his head at his truck and then gets in without waiting for me.

  Up in the dark sky, the stars are concealed by clouds.

  I glance around, looking for Storm and the rest of
the X-Men, but it’s just me and Beast and this ridiculous cliché of a storm settling a sense of foreboding deep in my gut.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “This is the only time that it’s cool to be a geek.”

  –Overheard at Comic-Con

  * * *

  The first drops of rain patter around me, tapping my shoulder, striking my cheek. I slam the door shut and the smattering becomes a deluge. Sheets of water slide down the windows, surrounding the quiet warmth of the truck.

  Beast kicks the windshield wipers into high gear and we drive in silence, but not for long. After a few minutes, he parks under the same tree where we first kissed, shoving the truck into park and clicking it off.

  I stare out the windshield while rain drenches the leaves above, the tree only providing a hint of resistance as water hammers all around us.

  He watches me. Waiting.

  I can’t look at him when I say it, but I owe him the truth. I keep my gaze on the night and try to swallow through the nerves threatening to explode out of my jittering limbs.

  “I didn’t like seeing Caroline kiss you.” I take a deep breath and hold it.

  He’s not saying anything. Not moving. I risk a quick glance. He’s facing me, but his expression is hard and flat.

  “Because I was jealous, okay?” The words spill out of me like water onto a comic book, bleeding colorful ink. “I know it’s stupid. I know it’s highly illogical. I know that I’m leaving soon and it’s unfair and I can’t expect—”

  He slides across the bench seat, cutting my words off with the press of his mouth. The kiss is brutal, hard, and all too brief.

  He pulls back an inch to look into my face. His arm is along the back of the seat, the other one near my leg, not touching me, but nearly. I can’t do anything but stare at him.

  My heart is pounding its way out of my ribcage. My shirt is probably vibrating with the force of it, but I can’t look down to check because I’m pinned under Beast’s dark eyes.

  “But Caroline.”

  He shakes his head.

  “No?” I try to interpret the motion. “No more Caroline?”