Justin smiled lazily at me.
“The ice cream is melting,” he said.
I laughed. “Where did it end up, anyways?”
“Still in the hallway,” he said.
“I'll take care of it,” I said. I got up slowly and padded down the stairs, grabbing both of the bags of food and putting them away. I carefully wrote the contents and date on the leftovers with a permanent marker I found in his kitchen drawers before I put them in the near-empty fridge.
“You look good, naked in my kitchen,” Justin said, standing in the entryway.
I gestured to the fridge. “Leftovers and hot sauce. You don't cook a lot, do you?”
He shrugged, unsmiling. “Why should I? I can afford to eat whatever I want and never dirty a pan.”
I looked at the rack of gleaming stainless steel cookware above his stove. “You cooked for me on one of our first dates,” I said. “I thought you might enjoy it.”
“You did your hair on our first dates,” he said. “I guess we were both still trying to impress each other,” he added with a toothy grin.
I didn't know what to say to that, so I opened the freezer door and took out the ice cream I'd chosen.
“Want a snack?” I asked.
“Sure, why not,” he said. “I paid for it, might as well eat it.”
“I would have bought it,” I said, a little stung. I'd offered to pay for things all the time when we had started dating, but he told me that banks paid a hell of a lot more than the USDA, and I should save my money, he was happy to treat me.
“I know you would have,” he said. “It's here, I mean. Let's go ahead and eat it.”
His kitchen stools weren't particularly comfortable, but I didn't suggest eating in front of the television at his place. His living room was immaculate, as perfectly-decorated as I had vaguely intended to make my apartment when I first moved in, and I was afraid that I'd get ice cream on his couch and stain it irreparably.
Scrubbing at a sofa and apologizing didn't seem like a good cap to the evening, so I figured that eating in the kitchen was the safer option.
We spooned the ice cream into bowls and ate quietly, enjoying each other's company. The detour we'd made to have sex had left the ice cream soft and perfect to eat, and I hummed in appreciation of the treat. I didn't usually splurge on the fancy brand of gelato he chose, it made my favorite flavor – mint chocolate chip – even better.
“Have you ever had any pets?” I asked suddenly. I wanted a dog, but it wasn't fair to keep one in an apartment with the long hours I worked, so I didn't really think about getting one any time soon.
“Nah,” he said. “Too much mess. I like the mess in my house to be made by pretty girls,” he added, winking at me and grinning.
Early the next week, I finally ran out of pasta and chicken. After a long day at work, I went to the store to buy something else to eat.
I felt very virtuous, buying food to actually cook, instead of relying on pizza.
With spinach and carrots already in my cart, I headed for the meat section. It was time for a change from chicken. I rummaged through the pork, but when I turned to put a plastic-wrapped cut of meat in my cart, I saw something odd.
Normally I wouldn't take a second glance at a man and a woman walking through the grocery aisles together, but this was different. The man at the far end of the store looked familiar, looked like Justin.
I tried to watch them for a minute without being creepy.
A few glances showed the man, who I was more and more sure was Justin, wrapping an arm aroung the woman.
He didn't mention that his sister was coming into town, but he didn't mention a lot of things like that. It wouldn't be unlike him for it to slip his mind. He'd said a few times that he thought that she and I would get along.
I turned my cart and headed over to introduce myself.
Just then, the man I was watching turned, so that I could see that it really was my boyfriend.
Unfortunately, he turned so that I could see that it was him kissing another girl, one who looked nothing like him, and I sure hope wasn't his sister. He kissed her with all the passion and devotion he'd been sho