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I’m blown away by Cash’s loft. The entire ride here I tried to imagine what his place would look like. It’s far better than anything I pictured though. The wooden floors are so dark, they look almost black. When you walk through the door, the light is the first thing you notice. There are large windows and doors everywhere. The kitchen is to the right. It’s like my damn dream kitchen. You have to step up to enter it which gives it separation from the entryway. The cabinets are a dark gray which pop against the white and light gray tile backsplash. The center island has bar stools so you can sit there and there’s even a nook with a table and chairs.
In front of me is the living room. Everything is very minimal, but it’s perfect. There’s a light gray couch and chair, and on the wall hangs a large tv. Next to the living room, you step up again and it leads toward the bedroom and office. I’m impressed with how neat and clean everything is. His color palette through the entire place is gray, white, and black. Even the bathroom in his room and the one off of the living room stick to those colors.
What truly has me in awe is when he opens the glass doors in the living room, and he has a huge sitting area outside. There’s a table, a sitting area, and a grill. There are lights that hang all around and I can only imagine what it looks like all lit up.
“Cash, this is a stunning home. It’s perfectly you,” I say, walking back inside.
“Perfectly me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
I grin as I lift my shoulders. “It’s sexy, intimidating, and relaxing.”
He stops walking and his eyes bounce between mine. My stomach erupts with butterflies and I need to swallow to relieve my suddenly dry throat.
“I don’t have much to eat, but I can order us something,” he says, walking toward the kitchen and leaving me rooted in place.
It takes me a few minutes to get myself to move, but I finally snap out of it. I go into the kitchen, trailing my hand across the light gray countertop. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms as he watches me.
“Sorry, I just love this kitchen,” I say, smiling.
“Thanks. It doesn’t get used nearly as much as it should. I usually end up ordering out,” he says.
I gasp as I lean over the island toward him. “Hayden Cash, you should cook in this kitchen every day.”
A small grin hits his lips and I smile. “Did you just full name me?”
“Yep. You deserve it. If this was my kitchen, I’d be in here all the time,” I say, sitting on one of the stools.
“So, you like to cook?” he asks.
I rest my chin on my hand, smiling. “I love to cook and bake.”
“Guess we’ll need to go get some groceries tomorrow and see what you can do,” he says.
My eyes widen and I drop my hand onto the island. “You’d let me cook in this kitchen?”
He pushes off the counter, lifting his massive shoulders. “Someone should.”
“Damn right they should.”
He drops a few menus in front of me that he pulled out of a drawer. “Pick where you want to order from, and I’ll have it delivered. You can’t go wrong with any of them.”
I flip through the ridiculous amount of menus that he has, and smile when I see one for a pizza place. I’ve been craving pizza for months. I hand it to him and as he grabs it our hands touch. My heartbeat picks up and my stomach flips from the contact. Shit, this isn’t good. He’s not interested in me like that. Hell, I’m only in his home because he’s covering his ass and mine. I can’t let my emotions take over. I need to make sure anything I feel toward him is pushed aside and I focus on being friends.
“Pizza?”
“Yeah, I’ve been really wanting pizza. Is that alright?”
“Anything you want, fun size.”
I watch him as he orders. Everything about him is powerful. His voice, his body, his demeanor. I’ve never been so physically attracted to someone before. I’m sure he’s not a lonely man but fuck I’m a lonely woman. It’s a bad combination.
The one thing I do know is that I’ve messed up my life enough. I will never do that again. Cash is ridiculously hot and has a soft side that sometimes begins to break through. He’s put himself on the line for me and I will not do anything to fuck that up. No matter how much my body tells me differently.
“Food will be here in about a half hour,” he says, tossing the menu down.
He grabs a beer out of the fridge and offers me one. I graciously accept it and follow him into the living room. He sits in the chair, resting his left foot on his right knee. I watch him sip the beer and I need to look away. The way his muscles flex with every move. His lips wrapped around the bottle. His bright blue eyes close as he enjoys the cold liquid. It’s too much for me.
“I have a friend, Sara. She kinda loves to shop and I was thinking that maybe you and her could go shopping tomorrow. I know you need some clothes and stuff. She knows the best places for all that girly shit,” he says, tipping his beer back.
