Chapter 109
The air between us is thick with unspoken words and half–formed thoughts as we sit here in my living room, I can see the way she’s trying to pull away and her walls going up again, like they always do when things get too real. But I can’t let her slip through my fingers, not after everything we’ve shared today, and not when there’s so much more to show her.
“You don’t have to decide right now,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. My heart is hammering in my chest, but I need her to hear this. “Take all the time you need.”
She looks up
her eyes clouded with uncertainty, but there’s something in them that tells me she’s listening.
“But remember, you promised me the rest of the day to show you what it means to be with me. And it’s only mid–afternoon, I continue, a hint of a smile tugging at my lips. “That means I still have about eight hours to prove to you why this–us–can work.”
I see the faintest twitch in her lips as if she’s about to make a sarcastic remark, but she holds it back. Instead, she nods slowly, her decision lingering in the air between us. “Okay,” she finally says, her voice quiet but firm. “So, what’s next?”
A small sense of triumph surges in my chest, but I keep it under control. “Lwas thinking we could make lunch together,” I suggest casually, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. Nothing too heavy, though, after your food truck buffet.”
She raises an eyebrow at my words, clearly intrigued. “You’re not planning to cook me anything weird, are you? Because, according to you, you’re not exactly known for your culinary expertise.”
can even tell me if I’m doing it all
I grin at her teasing, relieved to see that signature sass of hers again. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it simple. You can wrong.”
She studies me for a moment, then shrugs. “Sure, What’s the worst that could happen?”
I get up
et up off the couch, holding my hand out to her to take. For a beat, I think she might reject my offer, but then she surprises me by taking and standing up gracefully. I lead her towards the kitchen, and when I move off toward the fridge to grab a few items, she starts opening cupboards. I watch as she moves from one to the other until she finds the sliding pantry door. With a slight victorious smile, she takes out some spices and grains.
As we begin chopping vegetables, I can feel her proximity like a magnet. Every time we reach for the same knife in the knife block or try to stir the same pot, our hands brush, and the contact sends a jolt through me that makes my pulse race. I try to focus on the task at hand, on the sizzling sounds of the onions browning in the pan, but it’s almost impossible to ignore the way she moves next to me.
Her laughter breaks through, low and soft, as I somehow almost manage to spill half of the saltshaker’s contents into the pan. “Careful, Thane,” she teases, her voice, full of mock seriousness. “You don’t want to turn the dish into something that’s just as lethal as your bite.”
I can’t help but slightly smile at her. “This is why I’m letting you do most of the work, say, handing her the cutting board with the freshly diced Tomatoes. I’m dangerous, in a kitchen.”
She smirks, her eyes lighting up with that mischievous spark I can never resist. “Oh, he sure I can handle a little danger,” she teases, making it sound like a challenge.
As we continue, there’s something intoxicating about the simple act of sharing the space with her, of us working together without words, with only occasional glances and half–smiles being exchanged by us. It’s easy, in a way I didn’t expect. But it’s also almost too much at the same time -her warmth, her scent, the sound of her voice making idle chatter as we go back and forth. And every time she touches me even if it’s just her hand grazing mine as we reach for the same ingredient–it all causes an electric current to run through my veins.
As we move, the tension in the room also builds slowly, like a quiet storm that’s been gathering all day. It’s in the way her breath catches when I lean in just a little too close to stir the pot. It’s in the way our bodies align as we stand side by side at the counter–the space between us always a little tier small for comfort–but neither of us is backing away.
At one point, I step forward to get the serving dish off the island, and she’s right there, too close for my liking, with how untethered 1 feel. But, I can’t seem to bring mysell to move away, either. Her skin brushes against mine as she shifts to the side, and I freeze for a moment, staring down
Helps part slightly, and she’s breathing a little heavier now, the closeness between us becoming unbearable. I’m about to say something, to larak the silence that’s slowly becoming charged with more than just the food we’re preparing, but then, without warning, she tilts her head back even mote, kuouking up at me. The minement is so small and so delicate, but it speaks volumes in the space between us.
The next thing I know, I’m pulling her closer to me, both my hands gripping her hips. My body is moving before my mind can catch up, and my
breath is shallow as I lean in with my eyes locked on hers. I don’t kiss her. Not yet. But I feel it the weight of the moment, and of everything that’s been building between in. As I gently touch the tip of my nose to hers, I can almost taste it on my lips–the hunger, the desire, the need
Her lips are parted, and for a moment, there’s only silence between us, filled with unspoken things neither of us is ready to say. I stand there, my hands still at her hips, and my heart thundering in my chest as I try to steady my breath.
1 god slowly as I try to keep myself in check. “Yeah,” I say, my voice rough. Tust…just give me a
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