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“Tomatoes too.”
“Onions.”
His eyes light up as he chuckles. “Whatever you want to believe, Leigh.” He grabs a pan, sets it on the stove, turns the burner on. “Come here.” His voice drops to this demanding tone. One I never hear.
My sex clenches. “Oh?”
“I’m gonna teach you how to make stir fry.”
“I’d rather you make it for me.”
“Me too.” He coats the pan with oil. “But we’re not gonna be able to do this forever.”
“We’re not?”
His eyes tinge with disappointment as he turns back to me. “Don’t make me bring him up.”
“Who?”
He shoots me a really look.
Oh. He means Mr. Powers. Because he still doesn’t know I’m actually head over heels for him. “Why would that matter?”
“Let’s not do this again.”
“Yeah, but…” I bite my lip. I want Ryan to know. But only if he wants me back. Only if he wants more.
If he doesn’t…
There’s too much risk of losing him forever.
I follow him into the kitchen. “I don’t see why you can’t cook me dinner if I ever decide I’m dating again.”
“'Cause it’s fucked.”
“How?”
“'Cause it is.” He points to the fridge. “Get out the chicken breast.”
“Do we have to use chicken breast?”
He arches a brow.
“It’s slimy and weird.”
“You like eating it.”
“Thus proving my point about how it’s better if you cook. You love cooking. I love eating. It’s a perfect arrangement.”
He shakes his head.
“Why not?”
“I’d never let some guy cook for my girlfriend.”
“You’re not some guy.”
“I’m your best friend. It’s worse.” He taps the fridge with his sock-clad toes.
