Lea didn’t seem to mind, though. He just wave a hand airily and said, “I get it. You probably like the history channel or exclusively watch nature documentaries or that show abouthow things are made. Not to make assumptions. But also I love making assumptions.” He went back to bustling around the kitchen. “One of my favorite things to do is sit on the boardwalk and make up people’s origin stories. The crazier the better. We should go down to the beach this weekend, Shea said you’ve never been.”
“Yeah. Sure,” I said. “I’m gonna—” I gestured down the hall to my room. “Go do some…work.” I was just a pathetic adult who couldn’t even socialize properly.
I thought maybe disappointment flashed across his face, but he smiled at me, and why would he be disappointed, anyway? He was probably happy he wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore.
“Oh—all right. You know you don’t have to stay in there all the time? You can hang out in the living room whenever you want. I just don’t recommend going in my room. I’ve already shocked you enough as it is.” His playful tone was back, accompanied with a wink this time. It felt like an intimate sort of teasing, especially coupled with the warmth in his eyes.
The pats on the cheek didn’t feel so patronizing anymore. Lea might just be a tactile, playful person.
I liked that more than I should have.
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Goodnight. Thanks again for the, um, fudge.”
Lea’s wide lips curved upward, reminding me of a pleased cat. “Anytime, sugar.”
He clocked the flush that deepened with his endearment. His smile widened, and before he could comment on it or touch me again, I turned around and went back to my room before I completely fell apart at his feet.
6
LEA
Why was Beau sleeping on the couch? He’d brought his blanket out here, too, but was using one of the throw pillows to rest his head on. And he was wearing big headphones. How was that comfortable?
Hmm.
I tilted my head as I tried to figure out why Beau would come sleep on the couch when he had a perfectly fine bed. Did he not like it? It was the same mattress I had, and I thought it was like sleeping on a cloud.
Everyone was different, though.
“Huh.” I blinked and scratched my head. I wasn’t gonna be able to think properly until I’d had some caffeine. I spun on my heel and quietly headed to the coffee maker, leaving the lights off so they wouldn’t disturb Beau. I wasn’t sure how quiet I needed to be and I thought maybe those were headphones of the noise-canceling kind, so he probably couldn’t hear me. The hum of the AC in there was a good buffer, too. Of the three units in the apartment, the living room one was the loudest. Maybe he liked that?
I leaned against the counter and stared into space, still halfasleep, as the coffee brewed. When the pot was almost full, I got out my tall mug, dragged the sugar over, opened the fridge, then paused.
Damn it, I’d completely forgotten I was out of creamer.
Which wasn’t the end of the world, but it definitely wasn’t how I wanted to begin my day.
With a heavy sigh, I started to close the fridge when I spotted a few of those single-serve creamers from that diner I’d gone to with Riley a few weeks ago.
Oh, hell yes. I’d completely forgotten about them because he’d literally thrown them into the fridge after finding them in his pockets. He was a bit of a klepto, but with things that were already free. He loved free things and collected them regardless of whether or not he needed them.
I grabbed two and set them next to my mug just as the little red light at the top of the coffee maker came on.
Humming quietly, I picked up the pot and tipped it into my mug, only realizing I’d severely miscalculated when boiling coffee poured over my hand and holy fuckingshitthat was hot!
“Fuck!” I almost dropped the whole pot, but managed to shove it back into its station. Thatit’s-so-hot-it-feels-coldsting started to fade into pure pain, and goddammit why hadn’t I just turned the light on?
My thumb and forefinger were screaming in agony, and while I had a high tolerance for pain, a burn was on a whole different level.
“Fuuuck,” I whispered, shaking out my hand. When that only made it worse, I stuck the pad of my thumb in my mouth and pressed my tongue against the burn.
I knew nothing about treating a burn. Did water make it worse? Would milk help? Not that I had any. What the fuck was I supposed to do right now?
I looked around the kitchen, my gaze landing on the freezer. Ice it?
I pulled open the freezer, stared at the ice maker, then grabbed the bag of frozen vegetables right next to it.
As soon as it covered the burn, the pain began to fade. I closed my eyes and moaned. “Oh, fuck, that feels good.”