Chapter 12
Julian
Ever is already walking better from the quick dip in the hot tub.
The guilt of possibly pushing her too hard on her first day of lifting has me mentally kicking myself.
I got too excited at the idea of working out with her.
I lose my perspective easily with her, I remind myself.
Why now? Why this girl? Is it the mirror of brokenness in her eyes?
The reminder of another set of broken eyes that broke me too?
Or is it the way her stormy grays seem to look right through me?
Maybe it’s simply that she’s drop-dead gorgeous with her long limbs, wavy chestnut hair and pouty lips that beg to be kissed.
Or the sassy wit I can’t get enough of. Or all of it.
“What?” Ever is standing in Allie’s kitchen behind me, freshly changed into sweats, her hair still wet from her shower.
My hand freezes on the cutting board where I’m chopping vegetables for dinner. “Hmm,” I answer back. Did I just say that out loud? Holding my breath, I wait for her reply.
“All of what?”
Shit! “I . . . uh . . . I guess I was thinking out loud. How embarrassing.”
“Ooh, yeah, talking to yourself.” She tsks. “Certifiable. Kiddinggg.” She singsongs it and adds, “I talk to myself too. Maybe it’s because we need expert advice.” She giggles at her own joke.
“Right.” I smirk and continue chopping vegetables, holding my breath and pleading with the gods that she won’t ask me about it again. After a pause, she offers to help instead, showing again her maturity that belies her age. And I take the bone she offers, relieved.
“So, what are we eating tonight, Chef Julie? Can I help?” She bounces up to my side and peeps over my shoulder.
Her shampoo or soap or lotion or whatever fills my nostrils and stirs my blood. It’s giving sunshine and summer air, and I love it. “Well, I thought we’d go for some pasta with vegetables. It should help with the leg cramps and dehydration. Grilled chicken for protein.”
“The legs are much better now. And I’m hydrating, I promise. What can I do to help?”
“Wanna grate cheese? There’s a block in the drawer in the fridge. Allie must have a grater in here somewhere.”
“I’m on it.”
I continue to slice and chop while she opens and closes cabinets behind me, her smell floating through the kitchen, intoxicating me.
I try to focus on the sharp knife in my hand and the task before me while this enchanting young woman has me spinning and feeling clumsy. And talking to myself apparently.