“There’s still time for me? I’m not completely broken?” he jokes—though I wonder if he’s kidding.
There’s something in his eyes that seems almost pleading, begging me to tell him he can be the man he wants to be.
I grab a fork and swirl the pasta around it, then take a bite. I’m amazed at how delicious it is. “Wow!” I say while I still work to chew the rest of my food. “This is surprisingly incredible.”
“You doubted it would be?”
“I mean, you used so few ingredients. I didn’t think it’d be bad. I just wasn’t expecting this.”
“Sometimes, it’s not the amount of ingredients, but the quality of the few that you use that takes a dish from average to outstanding.”
“I feel like there’s some subliminal message in that.”
“Probably. I tend to say a lot of profound things,” he jokes with a wink at me.
My laughter bubbles out like champagne.
After we finish dinner, we take our remaining wine to the couch. He wraps me in his arms in what now feels oddly like a safe haven. I rest my head on his chest.
“Thank you for dinner. Seriously. That was very thoughtful of you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Silence fills the air as I think about how different this feels. There seems to be a calmness in him. I know he said he is done fighting, but this isn’t just about not fighting our sexual chemistry. He didn’t need to cook me dinner.
“Can I ask you something?” I say, my voice low and careful.
“I figured you’d say something like that soon. Go for it. Ask away.”
“Why are you acting so casual about this all of a sudden?”
There’s a moment of hesitation. Each second he doesn’t answer makes my heart beat quicker. I realize that confronting him with this can backfire and send him second-guessing again, but I have to know.
“I’m tired of making up excuses to see you at the hotel or dragging you into my office for no real reason. I just want to be able to show up at your door because I miss you.”
If I wasn’t falling in love with this man before, that about solidified it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Roman
Friday night, and I’m officially out of reasons why I can’t hang out with the guys. But with no interest in going out and being around other women who will inevitably throw themselves at me, I decide to have the guys over at my place.
I’ve hired a chef to come prepare food. Lincoln and Kylie are coming—something that doesn’t happen very often. Kylie has a younger brother she’s had guardianship over ever since her parents died when she was sixteen. He always has basketball practice or some kind of hangout at their place that she doesn’t want to leave unattended. He just turned thirteen, so he’s in those teenage years where she knows she needs to keep a close eye on him. He’s a good kid. Lincoln absolutely loves him like a little brother now.
Chef Robin is setting up in my kitchen as I walk by.
“Can I get you a drink, sir?” he asks as he chops vegetables.
I wave a hand at him. “Get out of here, Robin. I’ll get it myself.”
Just as I’m pouring the simple syrup into my whiskey sour, my front door opens, and the guy’s bustle into my penthouse. Sometimes, I regret telling security they can be let in anytime.
“You ready to lose some money?” Dean claps me on the shoulder and continues past me.
“What is he talking about?” I ask Sawyer as he approaches.
“Walker has decided it’s a poker night. Dean’s dead set on winning back the ten grand you won from him last time.”