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“Sorry. It’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault. We were both um…distracted.” I take the skillet to the trash and dump the sandwiches in it.
“Distracted.” He chuckles as he walks over to me. “That’s a good way to put it. So what can I do to help?”
“You could butter the bread.” I open the fridge to get the butter and when I turn around, Kyle is right there, our bodies almost touching.
“I was going to get it,” he says, doing that thing again where his eyes move over my face, taking in all my features. Why does he do that? So he’ll remember me when he leaves?
“I’ll get the bread.” I close the fridge and go around him, my body brushing against his. It’s a really small kitchen, which is a problem when you’re trying not to touch the person you really want to touch.
In an attempt to make things less awkward, I turn on the radio that’s in the kitchen and start singing and dancing along to the songs, not even caring that Kyle is there. I feel comfortable around him enough to be myself.
“You want to grab some glasses?” I ask, moving to the music as I flip the sandwiches. “There’s iced tea in the fridge.”
He stands there, smiling as he watches me. “God, you’re adorable. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“What does that mean?” I ask with a laugh. “You don’t know anyone who dances while they cook?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
I point to the fridge. “Are you going to get the iced tea?”
He stays where he’s at. “I’m going to have to move.”
“Yeah.” I walk up to him. “You’re blocking the silverware drawer.”
“I meant I’m going to have to move out of this town.”
“And why is that?”
He puts his arms around me and pulls me against his body. “Because I can’t be around you. Even two miles down the road is too close.”
“Was it the dancing?” I tease. “Did it make me irresistible?”
“Everything about you is irresistible.” He leans down and kisses me, soft and slow, and my knees go weak. His kisses just keep getting better, or maybe I like them more because now they’re off limits.
“You said we weren’t going to do that,” I point out as he stands up straight again, his arms still around me.
“Last one.”
I laugh. “Yeah. Okay. Now move so I can get the silverware.”
We set up dinner outside and just as we start to eat, my phone rings. It’s Nina.
“Sage, I’m so sorry,” she says, “I got busy and forgot I was supposed to call. How’s it going?”
“Great. We just sat down for dinner.”
“Was that ‘great’ meant to be sarcastic? Is he listening? Do you need to be rescued?”
“No. Hey, I should go. The food’s getting cold.”
“Did you really make grilled cheese?”
“Yeah, but I burned the first batch and had to make more.”
“You sure you don’t need me to stop by?”
