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Ken didn’t sing with me as he drove back to my car, and he only seemed to be half-listening to what I was saying, which was highly unusual for him. I didn’t mind at first because, with Ken lost in thought, it allowed me to ogle him from the passenger seat. He had a beautiful profile. Striking. The way his hair flipped up in the front mirrored the subtle upturn at the tip of his nose, which curved at the same angle as his cleft chin and enviable cheekbones. But, when Ken pulled up beside my car in the movie theater parking lot and hadn’t said more than five words the whole ride back, I began to worry.
Ken wasn’t a chatty guy, but something was definitely off.
Shifting the car into park, he turned to face me. I couldn’t quite make out his expression in the dark, but I didn’t need to. Ken gave nothing away.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked, making no move to get out of the car.
Ken held my gaze and his breath as I waited for the hammer to drop. He’d changed his mind. He didn’t want to go to Ruby Tuesday tomorrow after all. He’d just remembered that his coupon had expired, and he didn’t know how to break it to me.
His chest expanded as his lungs finally forced him to suck in a breath. With a face as hard as stone, he asked, “Do you want to see my house?”
Do I want to see his house? That’s a weird fucking question. Does he mean hang out or, like, literally drive by and look at it?
“You want me to come over?” I asked, not meaning to sound as confused as I was.
“If you want to.”
“Like, now?”
Ken nodded slowly.
I couldn’t get a read on his intentions. Maybe he was just nervous about asking me to come over, or maybe he wanted to dismember me and eat my brains. Either way, the vibe was intense.
“Um…” Fuck it. He’s cute. “Okay.” I shrugged and forced a smile.
Ken suggested that I follow him in my own car so that I could leave whenever I wanted. I think he was trying to make me feel more comfortable about being alone in a strange house with him, but all it did was make me question whether or not I should be alone in a strange house with him. I mean, that was on the Serial Killer 101 syllabus, right? Lure your victims to an isolated place under the guise of safety?
Ken could totally be a serial killer, I thought as I followed his Eclipse convertible away from the city and into the suburbs.
Think about Christian Bale in American Psycho. He was handsome and meticulous and quiet, too…worked out a lot…wore ties! Oh my God, I’m about to be hacked up with an ax.
Shh…calm down. Maybe not. Scope the place out. If you find a clear poncho, an exfoliating facial mask, or a tanning bed up in there, then you can freak out.
I left a voicemail on Juliet’s phone, telling her where I was going, just in case.
We drove down countless twisty, tree-lined streets, past horse pastures and elementary schools, until Ken turned into an adorable little subdivision called Pinewood Lake. I don’t know where I’d pictured him living, but it most certainly was not in a swim and tennis community out in the ’burbs.
He turned right, just after the clubhouse, and drove past a half-dozen single-family traditional-style houses with Toyota Camrys in the driveways and tricycles left out in the grass.
This was not bachelor country.
As we crept down the street, a large white two-story caught my eye up ahead. Perched at the top of a gentle hill and illuminated by a nearby streetlight, it seemed to glow in the dark compared to the other houses. Every window was bracketed with black shutters and adorned with a flower-filled window box. A covered front porch spanned the width of the first floor and ended in an octagonal gazebo on the corner of the house. And, just when I thought we were about to pass it by, Ken’s taillights brightened.
Wait.
What?
Ken pulled into the home’s spacious two-car garage while I parked in the driveway behind him, trying to figure out what the fuck was happening.
Ken lives here? How? My parents don’t even have a house this nice.
Oh my God. I’m such an idiot. Parents. He must live with his parents. Duh.
Whatever. That’s fine. I live with my parents.
Gasp! Is he about to introduce me to his parents?
No, dumbass. Look around. Do you see any other cars?
