Walk With Me Part 12

"Uh-huh."

"Is he there?"

"No. He's working." I squatted down and shuffled the stuff under the sink looking for something I could use to clean it. "Is Simple Green a cleaner?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. Listen, I gotta go. I have to do math so I can figure out how much of everything else I need to add to make up for the flour issue."

"Okay. Good luck. Call me later and tell me how it went."

"The bread?" I asked distractedly.

"No. Not the bread." Noah chuckled. "The man."

"We're just friends," I insisted as soon as I realized what he meant. "I'm not trying to-"

"Sure you're not. Go bake bread for your friend friend and call me later." and call me later."

He hung up before I could say anything else, which was fine by me. I was being truthful when I said Seth and I were friends. Then again, Noah was right too. Whatever. I didn't have time to think about my pathetic mental state right then. I was busy calculating how much water, yeast, sugar, salt, and eggs I needed to add to make up for the fact that I'd put in eight cups of flour instead of three. It was the first time in my life I wished I'd paid closer attention in math cla.s.s.

BETWEEN THE THE impromptu math exam, the sink scrubbing, and the extra trip to the grocery store, making the bread took much longer than I antic.i.p.ated. Thankfully, Seth didn't get home by five like he'd projected. It was a little after six when I heard the door open. A fresh loaf of challah was cooling on the counter, and I had just finished washing the last dish. I dried off my hands and hurried out of the kitchen. impromptu math exam, the sink scrubbing, and the extra trip to the grocery store, making the bread took much longer than I antic.i.p.ated. Thankfully, Seth didn't get home by five like he'd projected. It was a little after six when I heard the door open. A fresh loaf of challah was cooling on the counter, and I had just finished washing the last dish. I dried off my hands and hurried out of the kitchen.

"Hey! You're late. Is everything okay?" I stopped short at the sight of him. "What happened to your neck?" I rushed toward him. "Is that a burn or a cut or...." I furrowed my brow when I got closer. "Is that lipstick?" I jerked my gaze up.

"Probably." He sounded tired and it seemed like the "I've had a long day at work" kind of tired but, really, what did I know? Maybe his "I just got lucky" tired looked the same.

"Why is there lipstick on your neck?"

"Do I have any beer?" he mumbled to himself.

"Seth?" I licked my lips. "The lipstick?"

"Or wine. Maybe I have wine."

I took in a calming breath, got a whiff of him, and started coughing.

"Are you drunk?" My stomach plummeted as I thought of him partying with some woman, letting her touch him, kiss him. I thought I might throw up.

"I wish," he said.

It took me a few seconds to realize he was answering my question about being drunk and not responding to my thought about him making out with someone.

"Why do you smell like a frat house?"

He dragged his fingers through his already disheveled hair. "There were kegs at the wedding."

"Kegs?" I repeated. "As in, more than one?"

He nodded. "And a champagne fountain too." He loosened his tie-my tie-peeled it off, and then carefully draped it over the back of the couch. "I think it's clean, but if it smells funny, I'll have it dry cleaned."

"Don't worry about the tie. Tell me why you were at an afternoon wedding that sounds like the training ground for an AA meeting." I squinted at him. "And why you're covered in lipstick."

"I need a drink and then a shower." He walked toward the kitchen and shrugged out of his jacket. "In that order." He dropped the jacket on the ground, which was completely out of character given his freakish need for neatness and order.

I picked up the jacket and then crouched down when I saw something fall out of one of the pockets. "Seth, maybe you've had enough to dri-" I stopped midword when I realized what I'd just picked up off the floor. "Is this a rubber?"

"Probably," he said.

I heard a cabinet open and marched into the kitchen, digging through his jacket with one hand and holding the condom in the other. "Why do you have a rubber?" I felt something crinkly in his pocket and grasped it. "Correction: two, no, three rubbers. Why do you have three rubbers?"

"You don't want to know." He shook his head.

"Uh, yeah, I do."

"Where's the corkscrew?" he mumbled.

Apparently he'd located a bottle of wine.

"Is this how you prepare for weddings? You stuff your pockets full of prophylactics and hope you get lucky?" I snagged the bottle I saw sitting on the counter. "And I think you've had enough to drink."

"Eli," he sighed tiredly and turned around, a corkscrew in his hand. "I'm completely sober. I haven't had a sip to drink. I promise. And there's no way you think I carry around condoms and try to get wedding guests into bed."

"Fine. I believe the last part, but"-I got closer and sniffed him-"you don't smell sober."

"The keg exploded."

I blinked in surprise. "The keg exploded?"

"Yes."

"How does that happen?"

He held his hand out and I handed him the bottle.

"I have no idea."

"So that's why you smell like a bar?"

"Probably." He put the bottle under his arm and angled the corkscrew into it. "Or it might be from when the champagne fountain got backed up. It sprayed really far."

"The champagne fountain exploded too?"

He shook his head. "It didn't explode. It just sprayed because somebody thought it'd be funny to drop a bunch of strawberries in there."

"Somebody dropped strawberries into the champagne fountain?"

"I think it was one of the bridesmaids. She was pretty drunk."

Drunk women made me think of women around Seth, which made me think of the lipstick. "Is she the one who, uh, gave you those marks?" I asked as I pointed to his neck.

"Maybe." He pulled the cork out, tossed it on the counter, and said, "Are you going to want some of this?"

I shook my head.

"You sure?"

I nodded.

He shrugged and then tipped the bottle against his lips and started gulping down the wine.

"How is it you don't know who did it?"

Once he lowered the bottle, he said, "Well, it could have been the ushers. They were the groom's frat brothers and they kept talking about all the practical jokes they used to play in college."

"Why would the groom's frat brothers leave lipstick on your neck?"

"Oh, you're asking about the lipstick? I thought you meant who put the fruit in the fountain." He leaned against the counter and raised the bottle again.

I was dangerously close to shaking him.

"Seth!" I shouted. He looked at me and arched his eyebrows but didn't stop drinking. "You're covered in lipstick and you have bone blankets coming out of your pockets. What the h.e.l.l?" I hoped I didn't sound jealous. I had no right to be interrogating him about his personal life. But I was his friend, so I was allowed to be worried, right? I hoped so.

"Bone blankets?"

I rolled my eyes. "p.e.c.k.e.r ponchos, dingdong covers, raincoats." I stomped my foot and stopped caring about how I sounded. "Why do you have rubbers in your pocket?"

"I think maybe one of the women put them there."

"One of the women?"

He nodded.

"Just how many women were you with?" I seethed.

"None." He tipped the bottle back all the way, gulped, and when it was empty, he set it on the counter.

"None?"

"Not in the way you mean, no."

"You're not making any sense. You're covered in lipstick, and you said one of who knows how many women filled your pockets with rubbers, but now you're saying you weren't with any women and-"

"Eli?"

He sounded remarkably calm for a man who'd just downed a full bottle of wine. Or maybe that was the reason he was calm.

"Yeah."

"You know I wouldn't go to a wedding, where I'm working, and pick someone up." He stepped toward me. "You know that." I nodded. "Good." He reached up and cupped my cheek, and I realized for the first time that I was trembling. "I'm sorry I was late," he whispered.

"It's okay," I said hoa.r.s.ely.

"And I think maybe I'm too drunk to go out to dinner. Or at least I will be once all that wine kicks in." He gave me a crooked grin and my knees buckled. I grabbed on to his waist so I could remain upright. Instead of pushing me away, Seth stepped closer and wrapped his arm around my back. "Right now, I feel pretty good."

I shuddered. He was so close and, d.a.m.n him, even drunk he was gorgeous. It was all I could do to stop myself from jumping all over him.

"Eli, I've been wanting to tell you that-"

Given how close he was standing, I could smell perfume underneath the liquor and see lip shapes in the red marks on his neck. It was killing me. "You need a shower."

He blinked in surprise. "Oh, right. The beer and the champagne." He stepped away and I started breathing again. "Sorry. I know I stink. I'll go clean up and then we can figure out dinner and talk."

"I baked."

A smile took over his face. "You did?"

I pointed to the challah on the counter. "My mom's challah recipe. It should be good for soaking up all that wine you just poured into your belly."

He beamed at me. "I love your mom's challah!"

"I know." I looked down at my feet. "And I sort of made too much, so you have about a dozen more loaves in your freezer. When this one's gone, you can take out another one, let it rise for about three hours and then pop it in the oven."

"When did you have time to do all this?"

"I came over early." I blushed and looked at the ground. "Guess it's a good thing you haven't made me give the key back."

"No." He shook his head. "I want you to keep it. I had it made for you."

I grinned at him. "Yeah. It helps if I'm meeting you here and you're running late."

He came closer. "It's nice coming home and finding you here." He glanced at the challah. "Thanks, Eli."

The way he was looking at me, all happy and smiley and loose limbed, made me think of what he might look like after satisfying s.e.x. I hated my brain. It wouldn't stop torturing me.

"Go disinfect yourself and get all that s.h.i.t off your neck. I'll slice up the bread and put b.u.t.ter and honey on it."

"Okay." He made it as far as the doorway and then looked back at me. "Then we can talk, right?"

I started slicing bread. "Yup. I'll feed you and we'll catch up on the wedding fun." I waved my arm-and the knife-at him. "Go get clean. Turn the water to boiling if you have to."

He laughed. "Okay. One Silkwood Silkwood shower coming right up." shower coming right up."

"What's Silkwood?" I shouted after him.