Just One Look
Copyright© 2025 by DB86
Chapter 13
As we made our way back up to the street, my phone rang. It was Marisa, and without really thinking, I took the call. “Hi.”
“Hey,” she replied. “Can you talk?”
“Yes. And you’re on speaker, Rachel is here.”
“Oh.” I could tell she was smiling. “Hello, Rachel.”
She looked at me and half-frowned, half-smiled. “Uh, hi, Marisa.”
“Where have you been?” she asked slowly. She was still smiling, I could tell.
“At the mall,” I answered, commandeering the conversation. “And I ran into Bradley Austin.”
“Oh man.”
“Pete put that bully in his place. You would have been proud of him,” Rachel added.
Marisa laughed. Really loudly. “Good for you, cousin.”
“Words can be more powerful than any punch,” I added. “He was under the impression that Rachel and I are dating.”
More silence. Then a bubble of laughter burst through the speakers. “Really? Why would he think that? You spent another day together―”
“Nothing’s going on,” I blurted out. I could feel my face heat with embarrassment. “I bought some new gym clothes, and Rachel helped me. That’s all. Why did you call?”
“Just checking if you were coming back to work or not.”
“Yeah, we’re walking back from the mall right now. I should be there in half an hour.”
“Okay, cousin. Take your time. Wink ... wink.”
I stabbed the End Call button on the dash screen, hard and repeatedly. I was too scared to look at Rachel, but I could feel her staring at me, and when I finally dared to meet her gaze, her smile got wider and she burst out laughing. “I like your cousin,” she said.
“She is okay when she is not sticking her nose in my personal business. I’m so sorry about that. She has no filter, which is ultimately why we get on so well, but―”
“Pete?”
“Yes?”
“It’s fine.”
“Ugh. Today’s been horrible for you. First, Chihuahua boy, then Bradley and now Marisa. All I can do is apologize.”
“I actually had fun today. It certainly wasn’t horrible. Awkward, maybe, but not horrible.”
“Awkward is worse than horrible.”
Rachel chuckled. “It wasn’t bad! I’ve had a great day!” She looked around, and said, “I can walk from here. And you need to get back to work.”
“Thank you, Rachel. You’ve been a wonderful companion.”
She licked his lips nervously and added softly, “Would you like to come to my place for dinner?”
I truly enjoyed her company, and for some absurd reason, she seemed to enjoy mine.
“Sure,” I finally answered. “I’d love to.”
That evening, Rachel opened the front door and greeted me with a wide smile.
“Hi, Pete! I’m so glad you came. It’s kind of sad to cook just for one.”
“I know. That’s why I used to eat for two ... or four.”
She laughed. “You always make me smile.”
Rachel’s place was small but cozy and spotless. Polished pine floorboards, white walls, and a modern kitchen gave it a fresh, airy feel. A teal sofa matched the abstract print on the wall above it, and a large flat-screen TV sat opposite a neat coffee table. Her place was cozy and smelled like wildflowers. It was clear she felt at home here.
She disappeared into the kitchen, just off the living and dining area, and called out, “You can play some music if you want. The bathroom is down the hall on your left.”
“Thanks.” I made my way to the sofa and sank into it. It was just as comfortable as it looked.
Somewhere behind the kitchen wall, I heard beeping—probably a coffee machine. Rachel came out holding two coffee pods.
“Strong or mild?” she asked.
“Strong, please.”
I scrolled through my playlist options and picked some soft rock from the seventies, syncing it to her Bluetooth speakers.
“Great choice,” she said, appearing behind me with two steaming mugs. She set them on the coffee table and headed back into the kitchen.
“I love classic rock,” she called. “I’m mainly hooked on seventies and eighties music.”
She came back moments later, carrying two small plates, handing one to me. On it was a neatly sliced triangle of citrus tart and a spoon.
“They’re pretty good.”
She sat down next to me, crossed her legs, and took a delicate bite. Her eyes lit up as she groaned with delight.
“Mmmm, this is really good.”
I took a bite of mine. She wasn’t wrong—the tart was amazing.
“Okay,” I said, after swallowing. “This is dangerously good.”
She laughed. “See? Cooking for two is much better.”
I took a sip of my coffee, let the silence settle for a moment, then cleared my throat.
“So ... there’s this thing coming up. My high school reunion.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, Diana was talking about that with my yoga teacher. Are you going?”
I grimaced. “That’s the problem. I don’t really want to.”
“Why not?”
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