“This is amazing.” He moaned appreciatively as he rolled more pasta onto his fork. “Thanks.”
I loved cooking for someone who appreciated it. Normally I did batch cooking one day a week so I’d have single-serving frozen options after working all day. But cooking this feast for Rhett was way more fun.
“You’re welcome. It’s the least I can do, after all you’re doing for me.” I knew there was no way I’d ever be able to thank him for coming through for me this way, but I was determined to try.
He shrugged. “I’m doing what I would for any friend, Bri.”
Friend. There was that word again. It shouldn’t have annoyed me, but it did. It sounded so… blasé. Like we didn’t have fifteen years of complicated history. Okay, the sex had always been effortless, but he’d been my first. And even when we hated each other, there was still this underlying current of— I didn’t even know how to describe it. But it went way beyond friendship.
I tore off a piece of bread and popped it in my mouth before I said something stupid. “So, what are your thoughts after reviewing everything I gave you? You think Dave is completely unhinged, or what?”
He sank back in his chair. “The guy’s obsessed with you, no doubt.” He reached for his wine. “Claims to be in love with you.” He was watching me carefully, awaiting a response.
Which came in the form of a hard eye roll. “He’s an idiot. He doesn’t know me well enough to be in love with me.”
“You think you have to know someone for years before you can claim to love them?” he asked, draining his glass before setting it back on the table.
“I don’t know.” I swiped a chunk of bread through the remaining sauce on my plate before taking a bite. “I guess it doesn’t have to be years. Depends how much time you spend together.” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “How much you share, whether you really get to know each other. I definitely didn’t over-share with him.” I didn’t over-share with any man. The only male who’d ever gotten close enough to know the real me was Rhett.
“Why are you afraid to let anyone in?”
I hadn’t expected this conversation to take such a serious turn. Rhett had never been big on psycho-analyzing me before. Why now? “Uh, I’m not afraid to let people in. I have girlfriends who—”
“Aren’t a risk to your heart.” His look challenged me, but I refused to look away. “I’m asking why you won’t let a man in. You say you don’t want a relationship, a commitment, fair enough. But are you willing to go through the rest of your life alone?”
Alone. That word ricocheted through my head. Maybe it had something to do with my birthday tomorrow. I’d be turning thirty-three. Not old by a long shot, but well past the stage when I should be partying with my girlfriends like it was my job. Besides, most of them, with the exception of Gia, were in serious relationships. Long-term boyfriends. Fiancées. A couple were even married with babies on the way. What happened when they couldn’t go out anymore, or didn’t want to, because they’d rather spend time with their significant others? Where would that leave me? Alone. Just like Rhett said.
“Hey,” he said, reaching for my hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I just—”
“It’s okay.” I was getting emotional, making a damn fool of myself. I snagged my wine and drained the glass before slamming it down on the table. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of talking.” Rhett had a way of making me think about things I’d rather avoid, feel things that scared me. But I knew one sure-fire way to shut my mind down for the rest of the night.
“What would you rather do?”
I bit my lip, giving him a quick once-over. “You have to ask?”
He looked amused, quirking an eyebrow when he asked, “Are you propositioning me?”
“Maybe I am.”
He was usually the one doing the asking, but I understood his need for a little role reversal after I’d bailed on him time and again. Only this time there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. And I wasn’t sure I’d want to even if I could. Sleeping in Rhett’s arms last night felt good. Comfortable. Made me think maybe I’d missed out by ghosting him every other time.
“Hmm.” He stood and started clearing the table.
I frowned at his backside. What the hell was his deal? The Rhett I knew would have cleared the table with one swipe of his arm and taken me right here, at the slightest provocation.
Glancing into the kitchen, watching him clear the plates and load the dishwasher, I wondered if I’d just been rejected. Did he not want to sleep with me? If that was the case how the hell were we supposed to live in the same house for the next month? It had only been twenty-four hours since we made our arrangement official and I was already getting antsy.
He smiled at me when he returned to collect the wine glasses and empty bottle. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because you’re an ass.” I crossed my arms, considering another drink. I didn’t even have a decent buzz yet. “Are you or are you not interested in me?”
He laughed. “When have you ever known me not to be interested in you, sweetheart?”
At least he wasn’t trying to deny it. But why the hell wasn’t he acting on it? Maybe I needed to take matters into my own hands. It would be a hell of a shot to my pride if he rejected me, but I knew his pride had taken more than a few shots because of me, so I guessed it was time to even the score.
I stood, taking the glasses and bottle out of his hands and setting them back on the table. “The dishes can wait. I can’t.” I reached for the hem of my t-shirt, slowly dragging it over my head as I watched his eyes track my movements. “If you’re really not into this, now would be the time to say so.”
“Keep going,” he said, his voice sounding gruff.
