I Want It That Way. Ann Aguirre

the cracker. “You may have a point. A tiny one.”

      “Microscopic,” I said.

      “Do you ever wish we were still in Sharon?” It was such a non sequitur that I turned on my way to the door, brows raised.

      “Not really. But I miss my family.” That wasn’t the same thing.

      Lauren’s expression shifted. “What do you think Rob’s doing night now?”

      My brother didn’t rank high on my list of things to ponder on Sunday morning. But if he ran true to form... “Probably having brunch with our folks. Why?”

      “Idle curiosity. I’ve been thinking about home lately, wondering what people are up to. Krista texted me the other day. We were talking about the old days.”

      After a moment’s thought, I remembered her as a mutual friend who’d moved away before graduation, though I was bad at keeping in touch. “How’s she doing?”

      “I dunno, we talked more about high school. Remember the party where Rob punched Kent Walker?”

      “Not really,” I admitted. “Rest, I’m going to help Max with the fumigation.”

      “Wait, he’s cleaning up his own mess?” She sat forward, then clutched her head. “I think hell has actually frozen.”

      “He couldn’t be a pain in the ass forever.”

      Lauren was still mumbling in wonder, saltines in hand, when I left the room. It took us three full hours to make the apartment look even remotely close to how it did when we moved in. Which wasn’t that long ago.

      Angus got up just as we finished, and Max scowled at him. “Don’t even pretend you weren’t awake before now.”

      I didn’t feel like refereeing, weird as it was for Max to complain about someone else slacking. So I said, “Nothing valuable broken, no stolen furniture and no vomit in my shoes. This went pretty well, huh?”

      Max nodded. “But I think I’m done hosting for the semester. This shit is exhausting. Someone else can deal with the mess next time.”

      “No argument from me,” I said.

      By this point, I desperately needed a shower, so I took one quietly, as Lauren was still asleep. My hair went up in a ponytail, then I put on sweats and went in search of lunch. As if to apologize for shirking, Angus was making a beef stir-fry while Max waited on the other side of the breakfast bar.

      “That smells fantastic.” My stomach made a weird noise.

      Max teased, “You ate a T. rex, didn’t you? That sound can’t have come from a girl.”

      Plunking down beside Max, I watched Angus cook through the open space over the counter. Our stools were cheap plastic, though, nowhere as nice as the ones at Ty’s place. And once his name crept in, I couldn’t banish it. That was a gateway thought, leading me to wonder where he was, if he’d taken Sam to the park, a movie or the zoo. I’d give a lot to be with them right now, but he’d made it superclear where the boundaries lay.

      In under half an hour, Angus had the food on the table. I ate like it had been days. He didn’t strut his culinary prowess often, but he’d apparently learned to cook from their housekeeper. Likely he could’ve afforded this place on his own, but he didn’t want to live by himself, and he wasn’t ready to move in with Josh yet.

      “It was delish, thanks.” I scraped my fork across my plate twice, saddened that there was no more food.

      Max agreed, “Yep, awesome grub. I’m not even holding a grudge anymore.”

      “That was the plan.” Angus grinned.

      I killed the rest of the afternoon on assigned reading and coursework. By evening, Lauren was ambulatory—without barfing up her guts—so that was a good sign. I heated up a plate for her and then put on my shoes.

      Max let his gaze drift over me in the insolent, up-and-down elevator look that made me want to punch him. “Hot date?”

      Since I was in sweats and an old T-shirt that read The Penguin Ate My Homework, he was obviously being a tool. “With the elliptical machine. I haven’t been to the fitness center here since we moved in.”

      Lauren said, “It’s nowhere near as nice as the one on campus.”

      “And it smells,” Angus added.

      I tilted my face heavenward. “Why are they trying so hard to crush my motivation?”

      “Because secretly you’d rather sit on the couch and watch TV with us, instead.” Max patted the cushion next to him invitingly.

      Shaking my head, I had to laugh. “That’s not a secret.”

      “Where did you go last night, anyway?” Lauren wore a curious, quizzical look.

      “Now that’s a secret.” Smirking, I swept out of the apartment amid vocal protests. Someone even threw a shoe after me for being such a tease; it thunked hard against the door as I jogged away and down the stairs.

      I kept up the pace until I reached the clubhouse, though that was a big name for such an unimpressive building. There was someone on the elliptical, so I went for the treadmill, instead. I put in twenty minutes until the guy finished, and then I shifted. Forty minutes later, I was ready to call it a night. Swiping away the sweat, I headed back.

      In the streaky purple twilight, Ty was helping Sam from his car seat. After last night, I wasn’t sure how to act, so I waved and kept walking. They responded with raised hands, a bright smile from the kid and a hungry stare from Ty that made my panties glow in the dark.

      I won’t survive this, will I? But the fireworks will be spectacular.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      Monday started strong.

      When the professor called on me in my first class, I knew the answer and avoided his caustic wit. If you weren’t on point, Lynch was known for saying things like, “So you want to teach yet you can’t be bothered to prepare for my class. In five years, I hope you’re blessed with students exactly like you.” The rest of the day went just as well.

      I grabbed a sandwich at a convenience store on the way to Rainbow Academy and ate it in the car. Guilt flared when I remembered what Ms. Parker had said about taking care of myself. So far, I was doing a top-notch job.

      At the day-care center, I parked in my usual spot and ran in. The director waved. “I need you in Mrs. Trent’s room. Her assistant called in sick.”

      “Got it.”

      “Nadia...I was wondering if you’d be interested in a permanent classroom assignment? This is the fourth time Elaine has called off in two weeks. I don’t think she’s going to work out.”

      “You’d put me in Mrs. Trent’s room?”

      Mrs. Keller nodded. “It’s a good placement. Four-year-olds aren’t as trying as the twos.”

      “Could I still work a flexible schedule?” I hesitated, wondering how Ty would feel about me spending that much time with Sam.

      “Sure. Instead of hiring a full-time assistant to replace Elaine, I’ll advertise for a floater to cover the hours when you aren’t around.”

      And two part-timers meant she didn’t have to pay benefits. But I couldn’t blame her for cutting costs where she could. Times were tough.

      “Okay, sign me up.”

      “Excellent. I’ll have a couple of things for you to sign when you finish up today.”

      Because certain ratios had to be observed—for four-year-olds, it was 12:1, children to adult—they had the assistant director, Jan Greenly, in the