Chapter 11
“Do you ever leave this kitchen?”
The voice interrupts my thoughts about how to slice the sushi grade tuna I’m currently working with, and I set my knife down.
August walks in wearing a pair of jeans that are molded to every petite curve, all those blond waves piled high and tied up on top of her head, with a tight red T-shirt that I’d like to peel off of her. I haven’t seen the woman in close to a week, even with us living in the same house, and my sexual interest has only heightened when it comes to her.
“Not if I can help it.” I shrug, trying to hide my lust.
She peers around me at my station, and I know she’s trying to discern what I’m cooking. There is a smattering of freckles on her face, and suddenly, I’m curious to know if they grow darker when she’s out in the sun all summer. Does she like to lie on the shores of the river? Did she do that as a teenager? There is so much I don’t know about this woman.
“That’s what I thought. I get it, it’s where you feel at home. Makes sense why you’d always be here.”
A lot of people don’t understand that about me, so it’s nice to hear that she doesn’t find my obsessive nature when it comes to the culinary world off-putting.
“You hungry? Coming to grab some lunch? I’ll make you whatever you want.”
Even though I’ve barely unthawed the meats for tonight’s service or begun on chopping duty, I’ll drop it all just to make her moan when she puts one of my meals in her mouth.
“No, um, I actually came here to talk to you.”
My heart seizes for a moment because the inflection in her tone doesn’t sound good.
“I’m going to be staying in town for a little while longer. I know originally, when we made our little house rules thing, we both thought it would be temporary, and then I’d be gone, but things have become a bit more complicated and I need more time. I hope it’s okay that we are going to be roommates for the foreseeable future, but if not, I can try to find somewhere?—”
Cutting her right off with that bullshit, I put a hand up. “Don’t even finish that thought. You’re not moving out or finding somewhere else. You were there first, and if anyone should go, it’s me. Now, I have no problem remaining roommates—I mean, with how much we’re like ships passing in the night, we can barely call ourselves that—but if you want the place to yourself, you just say the word.”
A slight blush colors her cheeks, and damn, do I want to make her turn even redder—alone in a dark place.
“Okay, uh, thank you.” She shuffles her feet.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, what’s going on? If you want to share, of course.”
With the way her eyes are rimmed with red, something I missed when she first walked in, it looks like she’s had a hell of a morning.
“Just … uh … I met with the lawyer who is handling my mom’s will. And let’s say, she didn’t leave things in the best condition. I thought this would be a short trip, but, per usual, my mother has royally fucked me over. It would be funny if it weren’t so frustrating.”
Her sadness is palpable, and I hate that her mother put her in this position. I want to pry further, but I know she probably won’t give me many details.
“I’m really sorry about that. Whatever happened seems unfair. You don’t deserve it, but I guess you already know and have heard that many times. Is there any way I can help?”
Again, I know she probably won’t agree to it, but there is an urge inside me to make all her problems go away.
“No. But thanks for listening.” She gives me a small smile, but I can see the tears shining in her eyes.
“You know what we need?” I move to the secret cabinet that Nonna has taken residence over.
No one else, not even Patrick, knows about this hiding spot, or else we’d be fresh out of cookies constantly. My brother has a sweet tooth, especially when he’s working late.
“Are those … cookies?” She huffs out a laugh.
“Don’t tell anyone about this secret spot, it’s between Nonna and me. She makes me my favorite kinds and stashes them here. Yesterday, she made a batch of red velvet with white chocolate chips, and if that can’t lift your mood, I don’t know what will.”
I grab a plate from the shelf above us, dish out four cookies onto it, and then go to my big industrial fridge for the fresh cow’s milk delivered from one of our partner farms today.
“Honestly, I can’t disagree with that. These look good enough to cure any bad mood.” Those big hazel eyes have an expression close to admiration in them.
As if I’m her hero at this moment, and I want to fucking puff my chest out. All for just getting her some cookies, but hey, I’ll take praise anywhere I can get it.
At the exact moment I reach for a cookie, so does August, and our hands bump. And stay put. She doesn’t pull hers away, and neither do I. Boldly, because this woman just shared a very vulnerable part of herself, I inch my fingers up her hand. Tangle them in her digits. Squeeze our palms together.
My feet broach the barrier of space that exists between us, and I can’t seem to stop myself. In the place on earth I love most, my kitchen, I just so happened to get a morning alone with this gorgeous woman who keeps surprising me. Not going for it feels like the worst decision on earth.
Inch by small inch, I lower my head, my heart pumping blood so rapidly that I feel like I might pass out. Never in my life have I been so excited or anxious to kiss a woman as I am right now, and my entire body vibrates with the thought that I’m about to capture her lips.
August sucks in a breath, the sweet mint of her toothpaste tickling my nose. Her eyes flutter like she might close them, and my hand lifts to cup her cheek.
Except the moment my palm slides over the smooth cut of her jaw, she speaks.
“Evan, I …” August bites her lip, and I know she’s about to put an end to this.
My eyes flick to hers from where they were just homed in on her mouth, and I see indecision warring there.
“That’s … not a good idea.” She backs up a fraction, and our hands, connected on the plate, are suddenly no longer touching.
Blinking, pulling myself out of the haze of lust I was just trapped in, I back off. “Uh, sorry, I just …”
I don’t want to make some excuse. The truth is, I wanted to kiss her. I’ve wanted to kiss her for a while. Denying that will just sound stupid and would also be a lie.
“We’re roommates and involving anything sexual will just complicate things. I’ve already got a lot of stuff going on in my life, and I don’t really have the bandwidth for a relationship,” she explains, the air between us now stilted and awkward.
“I don’t really have the bandwidth for a relationship either,” I blurt because I’m not thinking and don’t know what else to say.
August flinches like I’ve offended her, and I realize in a split second that she thinks I just want to fuck her. A little wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. Maybe that’s all she thinks I’m capable of, and that stings, but is kind of true given my track record. Not that it would have been like that with her … or fuck. I’m all tangled up in my head, jumping to conclusions, and I can’t voice any of it to her.
“Right. So we’re both in agreement.” She turns, her body stiff with tension, and walks for the door. “Um, thanks for listening. And the cookies.”
“You didn’t even eat one,” I say, but she’s already out the door, the kitchen once again empty save for me.
Shit, I fumbled that one, huh? Something about August throws me off in the most disorienting way. It’s as if I get around her and become this awkward teenage boy who has a crush on the prettiest girl in school.
Except we both agreed that we have no time for a relationship. And clearly, it would be awkward if we hook up and it went south while we were still living together.
So why, with everything in me, do I want to try to be with her anyway?