Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
It took Diana several moments to realize that smell of bacon and the sizzling sounds coming from the other side of the door were not, in fact, part of a dream.
She bolted into a seated position. Who the hell was in her condo?
Oh. Oh.
Groaning, she flopped onto her back and lay there until her heart rate calmed the hell down.
Amil. Yesterday, she’d somehow convinced herself it was perfectly okay to let him temporarily move into her tiny living space.
It had been an entirely selfish decision, and now, twelve hours later, she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.
She pressed a hand to her growling stomach. Okay, on one hand, she was definitely excited about the idea that someone was going to make her breakfast every day for the foreseeable future.
There were certainly worse things in life.
Yesterday evening, she’d had the fanciful thought that this was meant to be. That she and Amil were meant to revive their one-night stand, turn it into something a whole lot more.
But then he’d sat in her chair and she sat on the couch, and she asked him what he wanted to watch. “Whatever you’re watching is fine,” he’d said.
So she’d put on a romantic comedy. A steamy one.
He sat in that chair and chuckled at all the appropriate moments, but not once did his gaze flick her way. Not when the main characters flirted. Not when they kissed. Not when the male lead slipped his finger under the strap of the heroine’s dress and dragged it slowly down her arm.
Not when they were in bed, when the camera was strategically zooming in on a hand sliding up a leg, fingers brushing against a collarbone. Not during all the sexy sounds emanating from her television while they made love off screen.
Not once.
She’d finally bolted from the couch, announced she was tired and would see him in the morning, and she practically ran into the bathroom and closed the door. She leaned against the vanity and shoved her hand into her lounge pants and got herself off in approximately two point five seconds.
It had not been the characters from the movie that she envisioned in her head while her finger was urgently circling her clit.
Her phone vibrated on the bedside table. She grabbed it and unlocked the screen.
Breakfast is almost ready.
She groaned again and let the phone drop to her chest. How the hell had he gone from blatantly pursuing her to platonic roommate?
Oh, wait, that was entirely her fault. She’d told him about her family curse, and the guy had taken it seriously and was giving her a wide berth.
She ought to appreciate him.
Nope. She hated it.
Finally, she forced herself to roll out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom. A red and blue toiletry bag sat on the counter. His initials were embroidered onto one side, the team logo on the other.
She’d come up with the idea of the personalized toiletry bags for the team’s premier season. The guys had liked them so much, Jeff had one made for every new player who joined the roster.
After taking care of the basics, she headed toward the heavenly scent of breakfast deliciousness, not bothering to change out of her pink pajama shorts and matching shirt—or to even put on a bra. Why bother?
Amil wouldn’t notice. They were roomies, nothing more.
Although, yeah, she did take a little bit of satisfaction in the way his eyes widened when he glanced over his shoulder as she stepped into the kitchen.
Lazlo rushed up to her, meowing like he hadn’t seen her in days. He’d been in bed with her when she crawled under the covers last night. Apparently, Amil had freed him from the bedroom at some point this morning.
She scooped him into her arms and peered around Amil’s shoulder at the concoction he was making on the stove. “Smells delicious. What is it?”
“Sweet potato hash,” he responded without looking at her. “And good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“There’s plenty of coffee.” He nodded at the nearly full pot.
“Thanks.” She poured herself a mugful then topped off his before adding creamer to her own.
“Thanks,” he said with a quick glance at his now-full cup.
God, was this the lamest situation ever? She tried to imagine what this experience might be like if they’d banged all night instead of slept in separate rooms.
Before she let her mind travel too far down that road, she asked, “How did you sleep?”
“Better than I expected to. Your couch is very comfortable.”
She spared a moment to feel guilty that she’d not offered him the bed while she took the couch, since he was starting in his first Mountain Lions game later today.
But she squashed the feeling. First of all, he’d shown up on her doorstep, knowing she had only one bed, and acted like they were just friends.
Besides, she knew damn well he would have refused her offer.
“Are you nervous? About the game, I mean,” she asked.
He sprinkled shredded cheese over his concoction and fried up a couple of over-easy eggs. Dividing the hash between two plates, he slid the eggs on top before carrying those plates over to her two-top bistro table. With both coffee mugs in hand, she followed and seated herself across from him.
“A little,” he finally admitted before taking a generous bite. “My parents are coming to the game, and I don’t want to disappoint them.”
If she had food in her mouth, she would have inadvertently spit it out, right across the table and into his face. “Your parents?” she sputtered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He furrowed his brow. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to. Is that something you’re supposed to do when you slept with a woman once two years ago and she insists it can never happen again?”
She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t about—” She flapped her hand between them. “It’s about you. Your parents. This is your debut with the team.”
He still did not seem to understand.
“I’m your PR manager,” she said. “I can take care of your parents. Put them up in a suite. Arrange for whatever food and drinks they want to be delivered. Tell the camera crew so they can show them on television during one of the commercial breaks.”
“Okay, first of all, my parents would hate it if you deliberately put them on TV, so please don’t do that. As for the rest, I bought them tickets exactly where they wanted to sit. And they can get their own food and drinks. They would undoubtedly prefer to do that. They are very lowkey people.”
She supposed that should come as no surprise, considering Amil was just about the most laidback person she knew. Still… “Next time they come to a game, why don’t you let me handle these details? It’s part of my job.”
“It’s no big deal, Diana.”
He would say that.
“What do you think of the food?” he asked. Apparently, the conversation about his parents was over.
She wondered if she’d get a chance to meet them as she took her first bite. But then she forgot all about his parents, because, “Wow. This is amazing.” She took another bite and damn near groaned.
Amil grinned. “Thanks.”
“Totally worth letting you invade my personal space,” she teased, savoring the combination of flavors and knowing full well she was going to finish every last bite. Hell, she might lick the plate clean.
Amil’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown up here last night. I had no right—”
She lifted her hand, palm facing out. “I just said this is worth it. You keep cooking breakfast like this and you can stay as long as you want.”
She didn’t mean to say it out loud, but in that moment, well, she kind of, sort of meant it.
In fact, the only thing that would improve this unexpected situation was if the reason he came to her rather than anyone else—including the most obvious solution of a pet-friendly Airbnb—was because he didn’t actually want to sleep on her couch.
His plate empty, he took it to the kitchen, loading it as well as the rest of the dishes he’d dirtied into the dishwasher. He then plucked the coffee carafe off the warmer and topped off her cup before bringing her the bottle of creamer from the fridge.
“I managed to get in and out of the bathroom at six without waking you, but I decided not to press my luck when I got back from my run, so I haven’t showered yet.”
“You went running? At six a.m.?” She curled her lips and wrinkled her nose. She was not a six a.m. person.
But then she blinked and stared at her empty plate. “And made breakfast?”
She shouldn’t be surprised. The man was a professional athlete, after all. He no doubt had lots of routines that involved working out and then refueling.
But she’d never gotten to know anyone on the team well enough to have any idea what their morning routine was.
And she’d certainly never stuck around long enough after one of her one-night stands for breakfast, a jog, or a shower.
That must be why this whole experience felt so damn…comfortable. Nice. Cozy.
Homey.
She fought the wince. It probably would not be like this if they were sleeping together. Even though she’d mentally made the decision that she wanted to sleep with him again, she hadn’t let herself imagine the scenario beyond all the fabulous sex she’d get to have.
Because she knew damn well she’d spiral down that rabbit hole of the family curse so fast her head would spin.
Amil chuckled. “Yeah, and now I’m going to go shower—I mean, take a bath.”
“Oh. Right. Of course. Um, towels are in the basket between the tub and the wall.”
“Got it. I won’t be long.”
She waved him off as disappointment crashed into her. “Take your time,” she said feebly.
He disappeared around the corner. He would not take his time. Amil was far too polite, too considerate to dawdle in their shared bathroom. Even if she told him to do it.
She had been such a fool to push him away when he told her he wanted a replay of that fantastic night they’d shared two years ago.
Such. A. Fool.