Nothing More (Landon Gibson 1) - Chapter 85

And the way her lips tasted like candy and I wanted more.

I need to think about something else. Anything else.

Cakes. Big fluffy cakes with piles of purple ice cream and intricate little flowers.

Notthe icing that was smeared on her shirt. Cakes and cooking and nonsexy things, like her cooking.

I do enjoy Nora’s food. She’s a hell of a cook.

Thinking about her cooking reminds me of cakes, which reminds me of Ellen’s birthday tomorrow. I still have no idea what to get her. I was going to ask Dakota for help, but that’s obviously not in the cards now.

“Are you good at getting people gifts?” I blurt out.

Nora turns to me, her brows furrowed, and she cocks her head. “Huh?”

I cringe at my own awkwardness. “Like for birthdays and stuff.”

“Sort of. I mean, I haven’t bought anyone a gift in a while, but I can try to help. Who’s it for? Dakota? Maybe you can get her something dance-related, or a new yoga mat or something.”

I didn’t even know Dakota was into yoga. It’s a strange thought that Nora knows things about her that I don’t.

“It’s not for Dakota. It’s for this girl I know.”

Yikes, that sounded weird. Maybe I should explain it’s for this seventeen-year-old girl, so not really someone . . . no, wait, that sounds worse. And would it be even worse still if I now backtracked and explained that it was for a neighbor, like I was expecting Nora to care, like I was somehow hitting on Nora or something?

Ugh, I don’t understand these things.

“Okay?” Nora looks puzzled, but doesn’t comment on my obvious discomfort. “What types of things does she like?”

Nora continues to put the food away and I wonder if I should be helping her. I honestly have no idea where this stuff goes or how she’s going to make a meal out of a can of almonds and a bag of brussels sprouts.

I have haunting memories of being made to eat brussels sprouts as a kid.

I wonder if Nora makes them taste better, somehow.

“I’m not sure. I know she studies a lot and she doesn’t like flowers.”

“Smart girl. I hate flowers, too. At first, they’re so beautiful, but soon enough you’re forced to watch them wither and waste away and you just end up having to throw them out, and they’re messy. A complete waste of time. Like relationships.”

Her voice is so flat that I can’t tell if she’s joking or not.

I try to defend love, even though I’m clearly not in a place to do so. “Not all relationships are like that.”

Nora pulls the plastic bag off of some broccoli and I watch her eyes look everywhere except at me.

“So how long have you known her? What else do you know about her?”

“Nothing really.” I shrug my shoulders.

Nora takes the bunch of broccoli over to the sink and turns on the water.

“Nothing else?” she questions. “Then why are you getting her a gift? Are you close friends?”

I get the feeling she’s trying not to be too nosy, but I’m bringing all this up quite awkwardly. And since she’s given me an entrée to explain, I say, “She works downstairs at the corner store. I wouldn’t say we’re friends really, but her birthday is tomorrow and I don’t think anyone even