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“I went a little crazy at the store. Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry. I think he felt bad for me after I told him I didn’t have much money for groceries. But I wasn’t implying he had to buy me some.
He returns with three more plastic sacks. He sets them down and pulls out a bottle of wine. “Chardonnay. To go with the grilled cheese.”
“Funny.” I laugh, but he’s not laughing. “Wait, are you serious? We’re having wine with grilled cheese?”
“You don’t have to drink it. I got it just in case you wanted it with dinner. The Chardonnay will balance well with the buttery bread and creamy cheese.”
“Did you make that up?”
“No. It’s true. I know my wine pairings. I’m from California. They teach wine pairings 101 in kindergarten.”
I know he’s joking, but I play along. “Makes sense. So what goes with peanut butter and jelly?”
“Merlot, preferably one with dark cherry undertones.” He opens my fridge and puts the wine in it.
“So what else did you get?” I look in one of the bags and see packages of meat. “Are you trying to tell me you’d rather have a steak tonight?” I ask, holding up a t-bone.
“They were having a meat sale and I got some for myself so I thought I’d throw in a few for you too. They’re not for tonight. You can have them later this week, or freeze them if you want.”
“Thanks.” I put the steak in the freezer, but then take it out and put it in the fridge. I’m going to make it tomorrow. I haven’t had steak since before my dad left.
The rest of the meat I put in the freezer, along with the ice cream he bought me, three different kinds, all flavors I like.
I don’t know why he did all this. Shopping for groceries AND paying for them? Just yesterday he was yelling at me to go away. But he could’ve just been in a bad mood from his motorcycle breaking down.
We finish putting away the groceries and I start making the sandwiches.
“This is a really lame dinner,” I say. “I can’t believe the first time I have someone over for dinner I’m making grilled cheese.”
He finds a bowl under the counter and dumps a bag of potato chips in it. “There. Now it’s not as lame. We have a side dish.”
I laugh. “Fancy.”
He puts the bowl on the small square dining table.
“Actually, we’re eating outside,” I tell him. “I don’t like eating in here. I try to eat outside whenever I can.”
“That’s fine.”
As I’m making the sandwiches, Kyle opens the wine, then finds some glasses in the cupboard. It doesn’t feel awkward having him here, like I thought it would. I was nervous when he arrived, but now I’m relaxed.
Turning away from the stove, I go to get some plates and walk right into Kyle.
“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t back away. His hands are clasped around my shoulders and he looks at me, pausing, almost like he wants to kiss me.
I’m no longer relaxed, my heart beating hard and fast. I want to kiss him. I probably shouldn’t, but his face is right there, like he’s waiting for me to make a move. Before I can decide what to do, he slowly leans down, making the decision for me.
I close my eyes and feel his lips press against mine. My hands go to his sides and I step closer, my mouth parting as he takes the kiss deeper. His hand rises to behind my neck, his fingers threading through my hair, sending a tingle down my spine. More tingles ripple through me from the feel of his soft lips, his teasing tongue, his warm breath. It’s just a simple kiss so I don’t know why I’m reacting this way. It’s either because it’s been so long since I’ve been kissed or because of Kyle. I have a feeling it’s because of Kyle.
When he backs me up to the counter and presses his hard body against my soft curves, a surge of heat fills me. An intense need. I haven’t wanted someone this badly for a long time.
“Sage,” he says, dropping his forehead against mine. “I know I should stop but…”
“But what?”
“I’m so damn attracted to you.” He looks in my eyes. “From the moment I saw you…” He doesn’t finish the statement, his eyes squeezing shut like he’s trying to control whatever urges he feels.
I kiss him, with just my lips. Short, innocent kisses that he returns, but with tongue, teasing my mouth and working me up even more. Our kisses become faster, our breathing heavier. Then suddenly, he breaks from the kiss and takes my hand and leads me to the living room. Just as he’s about to sit down, I yank on his hand and pull him back.
