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“Beep. Beep. Beep.” The timer interrupted my fantasy.
What the hell was that?
“Are you all right?” Brent was by my side, resting his hand on the small of my back. I felt the heat in my cheeks, fire engine red, on full display. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him right then, as I was sure after where my thoughts had just taken me, I would have little self-control. I would have been unable to resist attacking him right there in the kitchen.
“You’re doing it again,” he said, sliding his index finger across my lips, removing the purse they had formed. I bit my lip in response.
I took two quick steps back before I did something wrong. Not that I would regret it, but it was wrong. It wasn’t our design and I was trying to accept that. Why did he have to be so funny and charming if he couldn’t be mine?
“I’m good,” was all I could utter out.
He got a colander from the cabinet and drained the pasta into it. I gathered two plates and utensils and went about setting the table. I mixed the pasta and sauce together spooning it onto our plates. Taking a seat next to Brent, I noticed the uncertainty in his pained expression. We both knew how we felt about each other and it was getting harder for him to deny it.
I decided to break the uncomfortable silence. “So, any football news I should know about?”
“Uh, really, you want to talk about football?” Brent asked, raising a suggestive brow.
“Sure, why not. I love football.” I did enjoy football. I watched every Sunday with my parents. No matter where we lived my dad had to have the NFL package so he could watch his beloved Patriots.
“Okay, Blake. Who’s your favorite player on the Patriots and don’t say Tom Brady or this discussion is over.” He was mocking me, really? Was it so hard to believe that I could be a football fan?
“All right then, Tedy Bruschi.” I saw he wanted to interrupt, so I continued before he did. “Yes, I know, he’s retired, so if you mean current player then I have to say Vince Wilfork.”
“Wilfork? Really?” He seemed amused.
“Hell, yeah,” I cheered. “Plus, he’s like a big teddy bear.”
“Oh, okay, Blake. Now I get it. It’s not actually about the sport for you. He’s a big bear, all right,” he laughed.
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m willing to bet he has a career year. Maybe even runs an intercepti
on back for a touchdown. What about it, Cassidy? You up for a little wager?”
“I love the Pats, so I can’t bet against them,” Brent replied. “But there is a greater chance of seeing pig’s fly than Wilfork getting a pick six. You have seen him, correct?”
“Hey, the big man’s got skills,” I touted.
“Okay then, whose you favorite QB?” Brent asked challengingly.
“That’s easy. Drew Brees. He’s amazing. Plus, he’s got a great story. He was drafted by San Diego who dumped him for Rivers when he got hurt. He didn’t throw a tantrum about it, just came back stronger after the injury and I enjoy watching him light it up.”
“Hmmm. So, maybe you do know football. The Pats play Miami this weekend. Good to know I won’t spend the game explaining the difference between off sides and a false start,” he said, questioning me with his grin.
“Oh, is this a test? Let’s see… Off sides is typically when a defensive player lines up over or jumps the line and a false start is when an offensive player moves before the snap. Satisfied?” I bubbled.
“Very.”
I pursed my lips slightly, looking at him teasingly. Really, he’s a total sexist and it should irritate me but it doesn’t. I loved when we bantered like this. “Well then, Cassidy, since I know football, that means you get to do the dishes.”
“Fair trade,” he replied.
It was quiet for a while as we both scarfed down our food, starving from not eating much at breakfast.
“This is wicked good food. You sure can cook,” he praised, making my belly flip. I looked up, whispering a quiet thank you to my mother.
Brent started clearing the table and cleaning up the kitchen. I watched him more adoringly than I should have. Pursing my lips, I started flipping through thoughts of Brent like pages in a novel. But no matter the page, I was in love with him. The logical side of me was trying to process what he said about my needing Reese. I weighed heavily over my feelings versus my responsibilities and it made my heart ache.
I remembered a favorite quote of mine from my book.
