Tied Together (The Cade Siblings Duology #1)

25. Alana

CHAPTER 25

Alana

Bestie Friend

I need you to call me back.

“Oh my gosh, it’s about time. I’ve been staring at my phone waiting for you.” Cami’s face fills my screen and I settle down on my bed, holding my phone up so she can see me.

“Sorry, Cam. We got stopped in the lobby and then Alex offered to make dinner tonight so it took me a little longer to get back to my room.”

“Oh he’s making dinner for you,” she says with a smirk.

“Yes and he talked to Brad.”

“Wait. He what ?”

“Mmmhmm. He implied we were dating and called me his girl.”

“He what?” she yells.

I stare blankly.

“Explain.”

“I was sitting in my room and saw that I had some missed calls and texts from another unknown phone number and got frustrated. I threw my phone without looking, not expecting him to be standing in my doorway, and I almost hit him with it. He saw the texts when he picked it up and I explained a little about what was going on.”

“You told him about the breakup?”

“Well in the moment, no. I was giving him the SparkNotes and I tried to go further, but I started crying so…” I trail off.

“Aw, babe.”

“Yeah I know. Anyways in the middle of him consoling me, Brad calls again, and Alex says ‘I’m going to answer this’ to which I tried to tell him no.”

“Naturally, because you’d rather die than let someone help you.”

“Exactly so then that sparked an argument because, like you said, I don’t let anyone help me and he’s been doing it so much lately, but he reassured me and said please and of course I caved.”

“Understandable. Hot guy tells me he wants to help me with something and I am folding so fast. So he picks up the phone for you and what does he say?”

“He was all ‘I’m going to need you to stop calling my girl’ and ‘You call or text her again we’re going to have an issue. Got that?’ ” I use my Alex voice, which I have to say is pretty close to the real thing, and continue. “So now I’m sure Brad thinks we’re dating, which is fine, maybe that will keep him away.”

“He absolutely thinks you two are dating. Ugh I wish I could’ve been there to witness this. Did you block the number?”

“Yeah I watched Alex do it after he hung up.”

“He is so into you.”

“No he is not. He just saw a problem and tried to fix it. He’s a fixer.” Even as I deny it, I know I’m wrong. Alex and I are moving into uncharted territory and it’s unnerving.

“Yeah, a fixer who is into you.”

“Whatever.”

We continue talking and she catches me up on the happenings back at the office. It seems like things there are running smoothly, which is good. I hear the door open and close in the background and someone shouts at her.

“Who’s that?”

“Oh, no one.”

Weird.

“Well, it’s obviously someone. Wait, are you seeing someone?”

“Trust me if I was seeing someone you’d know. It’s just the neighbor bringing some dog food and treats. They asked me to watch their dog for them this week.”

Cami watching a dog? Voluntarily? Nothing about that seems right.

“Okay…I guess I’ll let you go and talk to that neighbor.”

“Love you Lan,” she says brightly.

“Love you too.”

She hangs up the phone before I can even get the sentence out, which is so strange because she never rushes me off the phone. I usually have to force her to hang up so I can get things done. I brush it off, she’s probably just busy.

I set my phone down to charge and change into a comfy lounge set. We don’t plan on leaving the flat again today and we have a few hours before dinner, so I grab the book Alex got for me and sit on the bench at the window in my room.

The view of the snow covering the ground outside my bedroom is absolutely gorgeous. I could sit here for hours reading and people watching. As I look down at the street, I can’t help but think about how snow blankets the ground, concealing the seeds and roots that will sprout and grow in the spring. Brad was like my snow and now that the snow has melted, Alex might be my spring. The thought is equal parts scary and exciting.

A few hours later I hear clunking happening in the kitchen and decide to venture in and see what’s going on. My eyes are blurry from staring at my book for so long, so I rub them and slide on my slippers.

Walking down the hallway, I hear the telltale signs of cooking and pause at the entryway. Alex is so gorgeous it’s unfair. He grabs for a pot and turns around, spotting me staring.

“You should take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” I reply, tossing a hand towel at him playfully. “How can I help?”

“You can help by sitting down at that island and keeping me company. I told you I was cooking for you tonight.”

“I feel weird just sitting here and watching you do all the work,” I confess, sliding onto one of the barstools.

“Don’t. I am going to force you to do the dishes, so we’ll be even.”

“Ah, okay. I see how it is.”

He continues busying himself. It looks like we’re eating something with a cream sauce and it smells peppery and cheesy and good.

“Ready for a question of the day?” he asks.

“Hit me.”

“Tell me about one of your favorite childhood memories.”

“Oh goodness. Give me a second to think about that one.”

“I’ll share mine first and give you a few minutes to think.” He turns back to the sink and towards me. He washes his hands and grabs a towel, drying his hands and then draping it over his left shoulder.

“One year, around the holidays, my mom picked me up early from school and we went to this Christmas tree farm about an hour away. We stopped on the way and got hot chocolate and snacks at the gas station and she made it feel really special. After that year, we always took a mini road trip to go get our tree from that farm.” He pauses and slides a glass of wine he’s poured towards me. I lift it and take a sip, never breaking contact with his green eyes. “It was the year that my dad left, and I know she was trying to distract me and make it feel special. Clearly it worked to some degree because those years going to that tree farm are some of my favorite memories growing up.”

“Did you hear from him again after he left?” I ask in an almost whisper. This might not be the right time for these questions, but after our conversation this afternoon I’m curious.

“He tried to reach out a few years ago, but I never returned his call.”

I nod my head in understanding. I don’t think I would want to call him back either.

“Alright, your turn, sunshine.”

I ignore the way the term of endearment sets off fireworks in my chest and continue with my answer.

“I’ll follow your lead and share a holiday memory I love. When I was in high school, I took this food and nutrition class. They used to teach us all of these healthy recipes packed with nutrients and things that were good for your body, but they made an exception for the holidays.

“Around November we made these incredible homemade cinnamon rolls. They were melt in your mouth delicious and I loved them so much that I went home and shared the recipe with my mom. We had already started making cinnamon rolls each Christmas morning, but we always just did the ones in the can. That year though, we made the homemade ones that I learned in class and every year since we’ve made them. Of course we’ve refined the recipe over time, but I loved baking them with my mom each year. She usually isn’t around on Christmas anymore, but Charlie and I still make them.”

“Well, I am officially requesting them for Christmas morning.”

I’m grateful he doesn’t press me on my mom not being around for the holidays. I don’t want to get into that particular topic right now.

“Already planned on it,” I say with a wink.

He continues cooking and we chat about random things—a new movie in the Hunger Games series he saw recently, our coworker Caroline’s new husband, and our screen time. That last one came about after we both got notifications alerting us that our weekly average had gone up. Not like either of us really wanted to know.

Eventually he gets close to having everything ready and I stand having decided I’ll cut up a salad.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” he asks when he sees me get up from the island.

“Calm down, big guy. I’m just cutting up a salad.” He narrows his eyes at me, but relents.

“Fine, I’ll allow it.”

I open the fridge and pull out the ingredients I need, then grab a cutting board and a knife from the knife block. I get lost in the methodical work of cutting up the veggies and Alex moves around me as he finishes up.

“Just going to grab this,” he says as he reaches past me for a spoon he left on the counter. As he pulls back, his arm brushes my waist and I jump at the contact, causing my hand to slip just as I’m pressing the knife down on the carrot I’m chopping.

“Ouch.” Blood starts pooling from the cut and I quickly pull my hand back so it doesn’t drip down onto the counter or any of the food.

“I’m so sorry, Lanie, I didn’t mean to bump you. Here let me see.” Alex reaches out for my hand and I pull away. It wasn’t his fault, but I’m flustered and my emotions feel all over the place. I need some space.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” I rush down the hall and into my room to get a little bit of distance. I push my thumb under the cool water in the sink and watch the water run light pink. Once it’s clear, I dry my hand and squeeze some ointment over the cut, topping it with a Band-Aid.

I sit down on the edge of the giant tub and let out a breath, running my hands through my hair. I decide that I’ll take my dinner and eat in my room. I just need to put some space between us right now. Things are moving a bit too fast for my liking and if I’m going to be open to this at all, it’s going to need to move slowly.

Feeling slightly more centered, I stand and head back to the dining room.

When I walk in, he has already taken everything but the bowl of salad to the table. He’s set the table and placed us on either side of it, facing one another. I wince, knowing me pulling away right now isn’t the kindest move after he set this up for us, but I don’t see another option right now.

“You okay?” he asks, concern clear on his face.

“Yep, all good,” I say, holding up my hand with the Band-Aid on it. “But I need to look over a few things before we meet with Amélie tomorrow. Do you mind if I grab a plate and eat in my room?” I’m being a jerk. I know I’m being a jerk.

“Oh. Um, yeah that’s fine. Of course.” I can tell he’s disappointed, even I’m disappointed and I’m the one pushing him away.

I grab a plate and load it up with pasta and salad. Alex grabs a slice of sourdough bread that we got at the market and tops it with garlic butter, then places it on my plate for me. Always taking care of me, even when I’m being the worst.

“Thanks for cooking,” I tell him as I turn to go and hate the way my voice wobbles.

“Hey, Lanie.” I turn back to look at him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yep, totally fine.”

He nods, looking back down at his plate and I take that as my cue to go.

I walk down the hallway and shut the door behind me quietly. I don’t actually have anything I need to look at for our meeting, but I sit down at the desk and flip open my notebook anyway. Before I start doodling, I twist a few pieces of pasta on the fork and take a bite.

Heaven. That is the only adequate way to describe this pasta. As I chew, I can’t help but think about Alex and the effort he put in. I was so dismissive, I barely even thanked him. My appetite suddenly plummets and I set the plate aside.

I draw and journal until late in the evening, and as I’m getting settled in for bed, the expression on Alex’s face when I left him alone at the table is at the forefront of my mind. It’s made worse when a milk chocolate and caramel square, wrapped in gold foil, slides under the crack in my door.