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The door buzzed, and I swallowed a squeal and buzzed him up.
I should probably have put on some concealer on that spot on my temple, but too late now.
Breathless, I opened the door and found Abe grinning down at me. His dark eyes sparkled good-naturedly and my heart flopped over. He hefted two plastic bags stuffed with green leaves. “I come bearing kale.”
I took one bag out of reflex and my hands brushed against his. Warmth shot through my body and a smile tugged at my lips. “Thanks.”
Were we doing this? Was he really bringing food to my apartment after we had made out in the street a week ago, like this was normal and ordinary and this was something we could do? Was it something we could do?
Would I ever get over how beautiful he was? How beloved I found each line of his face and body?
His smile broadened, not without a touch of satisfaction. “Are we going to stand here staring at each other all afternoon?”
I shot him a bright smile. “It’s not my fault if you’re stunned into submission by my beauty.” The words floated out of me daringly, flirtatiously, leaving me slightly astonished, but more pleased.
Abe’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Oh, is that what was going on?”
“I can hardly think of another reason,” I said archly.
For another moment, his gaze remained of me, laughing, happy, and then he looked past into the narrowed apartment. “You got an oven? I figured we could make some chips.”
I licked my lips, though not from hunger. Abe and I grew up on kale chips. I’d heard people say it was an acquired taste, but given that our mothers served them up while we were young, I considered it acquired. “Kitchen’s right up the hall.” I stepped back and let him inside. His broad shoulders filled up the hallway. “Sorry, it’s not really a linebacker-sized apartment.”
He trailed his fingers along my ceiling as though to agree. “You should see my apartment. It is.”
Even my shoulder blades were tingling now, and I didn’t even know shoulder blades could tingle. I kept my giggles suppressed and followed him into the square kitchen and filled glasses of water for both of us. “Should I?”
He just raised his brows.
I pre-heated the oven and dug out olive oil and salt, handing Abe the greens to wash and dry. “I watched your game.”
“You should have watched it from the Sun Life Stadium.”
My lips twitched. God, he was confident. “Don’t you think you should be glad I watched it at all? What would y
ou do if I just stopped watching altogether?”
He looked smug. “You can’t. It’s your job.”
I just shook my head at him. “So what brought you out of Manhattan?”
“Standing breakfast date with one of my grandma’s friends. Her husband passed away four years ago, so she gets a little lonely. She’s the one who gave me all of this.”
I handed Abe a colander that he placed in the sink as he sprinkled salt and oil over the leaves, and then searched the cabinets for a suitable tray. “She lives here, in Astoria?”
“Uh-huh.”
“For how long?”
“Think she grew up here.”
I placed a wide, only slightly burnt tin on the counter and watched as Abe spread out the kale evenly. “My grandparents lived here in the forties. That’s when they moved here.”
He turned away from the dish and studied me. “Have you ever seen where they lived?”
The oven wasn’t quite hot enough, but I stuck the tray in anyway. It was too hot in here; I’d rather be moving. “No, though I’d like to. Let’s go into the living room while it bakes.”
But once we reached the living room I realized we weren’t alone. Sometime in the last fifteen minutes all three of my roommates had trickled out of their rooms and now sat quietly on the couch and chairs, playing at the laptops and reading, a hereunto unheard of occurrence. They all looked up as Abe and I walked in.
