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“Of course. He seems like an interesting guy.” With her eyes focused on the bottle of tabasco sauce she’s dumping into the pot, she doesn’t catch my grimace.
“Are you…”Shit. How do I even ask this?
Picking up on my pause, Paige brings her attention back to me. “Am I…?” Her hazel eyes hold curiosity, but not an ounce of guilt.
“Interested in him?”
Her eyebrows draw downward as she mouths my question back to herself. It’s like I’ve given her a riddle she’s attempting to decipher. After a moment she takes a guess, hitting the nail on the head.
“You want to know if I want Cole? In a romantic sense?”
A shrug is all I can give her, because honestly, no. I don’t want to know that.
Paige’s eyes widen. “Oh. Gosh. Is that…I mean…I’m not one to judge. But, I just…” She crosses her arms. Then uncrosses them. Then shakes her head. Then rubs the back of her neck while avoiding my gaze. “If you and Cole…the two of you…with me…I know people do that. Polyamorous, right?” Bits of her red cheeks are visible through her fingers as her palms cup her face. “That’s okay. You do you. But I’m going to…politely decline.” Paige lets out a sigh and returns to stirring her gumbo.
Now I’m the one struggling to figure out what her jumbled words mean. I’ve almost got it when my thoughts get cut off.
“I just wanted you.” Her murmur barely reaches me, but when it hits my eardrums the rest of my body flares to life.
Partly with excited heat, but also, more prominently in the moment, with hilarity.
“Threesome? You think I want”—I choke on my next words before forcing them out between chuckles—“a threesome?”
“I don’t know what you want, Dash. You’re being kind of vague.” She frowns at me, and my humor trickles off.
“Sorry. It’s just, you seem like you might like Cole. I wondered if it was him you’d like to go on a date with? Him you want to be cooking for?”Damn, I sound so pathetic.
Paige sets her spoon off to the side and turns down the burner, before leaning back on the counter and meeting my eyes. “Is that what dating is like these days? Games? People dating the wrong person to make the right person jealous?”
Every word out of her mouth makes it even more clear how stupid my jealousy was.
“No. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.” I rise from my chair and bracket Paige in with my arms, hoping that she won’t be searching for the closest exit when she understands I’m a fool.
“You’re not an idiot. Don’t say that.” She glares up at me, and I keep my mouth shut. Her hands cup my waist. I’m ready for her to shove me out of her way. Instead, she wraps her arms around me, hugging me close.
This embrace is different than before. Earlier was flirtatious and sexual. Now, she holds me like she’s offering comfort.
I bask in it.
The hold of her arms is strong and secure. The warmth of her body fills mine. I never want to leave.
“I do want to cook for Cole. I want to cook for both of you. Food is important, and I want to feed you. But when it comes to dating, that’s all about you. Cole isn’t invited.”
“Well, cut me with a knife, why don’t you?” My roommate’s dry voice sounds from the doorway to the kitchen.
I glare over at him, but he just smirks.
“You’re still invited to eat dinner. Which should be ready, by the way.” Paige’s hand rubs a reassuring circle on my back before she releases me and gives the two of us guys a grin.
While she returns to her bag of foodstuff, I pull out our mismatched plastic bowls and some dingy cutlery. Paige doesn’t blink an eye at any of it, serving her fragrant rice dish without hesitation.
The three of us settle around our kitchen table, silent as we dig in. Cole and I devour the spicy gumbo. My tongue burns in delicious torture, and I cool it down with a slice of crusty bread Paige hands me. Mouth too full of food, the only way I can thank her is by reaching under the table to squeeze her knee.
She jumps but gifts me with a self-satisfied smile. I want nothing more than to tug her out of her chair and settle her on my lap, so I can keep one arm around her waist while I gorge on her delicious meal. Instead, I keep my palm on her thigh and shovel the food into my mouth one-handed.
For the life of me, I can’t think of what I’ve done to deserve this night.
Life seems to agree because I’m about to grab myself a second helping when a loud knock pounds at the front door.
