Page 2 of Adore Her
“I see Kurt’s in a lively mood,” Graham says, sighing as he tilts his beer for another swig.
I laugh, then slant my chin toward the front door, calling out, “We’re in here, asshole!”
The thud of Kurt’s bag dropping on the hardwood floor is followed by his rapidly approaching footsteps. He appears in the doorway of the kitchen with a huge grin and outstretched arms. He tackles Graham first, who groans in protest but endures the bear hug. It’s my turn next, and I give Kurt a friendly but hard slap on the back as we embrace.
“Good to see you, man,” I say. “You look good.”
“You too,” says Kurt. His eyes flick upward. “Gray hairs and all.”
“You havegrays, Maddox?” says Graham, squinting at my hairline.
I don’t bother with a retort. Kurt’s just fucking with me. Every time we get together like this, he rags me about being the oldest of our group, as if having a couple years on him makes me an old man.
I give Kurt an unperturbed smile. “Want a beer?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Kurt’s eyes slide around the kitchen. “Uh…where’s the fridge?”
To be fair, I wondered the same thing when I first walked into the room. Part of me wants to let Kurt feel like an idiot a little longer, but I’m not that mean. I put an end to his confusion and pull on a brushed metal handle on the wall of cabinets near us.
“Whoa,” says Kurt. “Swanky. It’s all, like, in disguise.”
“In order to be a truly upscale kitchen,” Graham quips, “one’s fridge must notlooklike a fridge.”
“Twenty bucks says Jude won’t blink an eye at this cabinet-fridge,” Kurt says, grabbing a beer before elbowing the door closed.
Graham shakes his head. “No way. I’m not taking that bet. He probably has a fridge like this at home. Hey, speaking of Jude, you guys saw his text, right?”
I nod. I saw it a few minutes after he sent it this morning. I wasn’t exactly excited to learn that Jude is bringing his little sister with him this weekend, but I know the guy better than anyone—hell, he’s my best friend—and I know he wouldn’t do something like this without a good reason. As long as she’s cool, it shouldn’t be a problem.
“Huh?” says Kurt, swallowing a mouthful of beer. “What text? My phone’s dead.”
“He’s bringing his sister to the cabin,” says Graham.
“Hissister?” Kurt groans. “The fuck? How come?”
“He didn’t get into specifics,” says Graham, shrugging.
“Said he’d explain later,” I say.
Kurt splits a scowl between Graham and myself. “Why aren’t you two more pissed off about this? Our weekend’s ruined.”
“Ruined? Really?” I restrain a laugh. “Oh, that’s right. Because now you won’t be able to strut around the cabin with your dick out. Sorry, man. My deepest condolences.”
“I swear to God,” Kurt says, “if we end up having to sit around making polite conversation with her all weekend, I’m gonna go apeshit. Jude’s never gonna hear the end of it. He thinks he can do whatever he wants, just because his wallet’s fatter than the rest of ours. Fuck that. There arerules. He has to play by them too!”
Funny thing about going off on a rant: it tends to dull your awareness of what else might be going on nearby. In this case, Kurt doesn’t hear the front door of the cabin opening. Or the two pairs of footsteps coming toward the kitchen.
“Dude, come on—” I say. Not only am I trying to stop him from making a fool of himself, but I’m getting pretty pissed off at everything he’s saying. He’s completely out of line, going off like this.
But there’s no stopping Kurt. He’s going on and on now about how Jude’s sister must be a real piece of work if she thinks it’s a good idea to tag along with Jude to the cabin.
“Does she have no common sense?” he blusters. “Is she some dumb blonde who doesn’t understand that ‘guys weekend’ means a weekend free of needy bitches like her?”
At last, Kurt notices the fresh pair of faces in the kitchen.
“Shit,” he chokes out. “Uh, hey, Jude.”
“Hey, guys.” Jude looks understandably pissed as he stands there in the kitchen entrance. Putting a defensive arm around his sister’s shoulder, he announces, “This is Cora.”