AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Y-Yeah.”
“What are we watching?” he asks, turning on the TV. He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed that we’re lying together so intimately on my couch.
“Anything.” I should have known better than to agree to this. In a way, this is more intimate than having sex. The connection of our bodies, the warmth we share. It’s overwhelming and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if there was an us. If I was more than just the chase. If this thing between us was more than just the fact that I turned him down. Would this be our thing? Relaxing and cuddling on the couch?
He flips through the channels and stops on a movie channel that’s playing Sweet Home Alabama. I love this movie. I am from the South, after all. “This okay?”
“Yes. But you can watch whatever.” Satisfied with my reply, he sets the remote on the floor, tucking his hand behind his head.
My body is stiff as I fight the urge to relax into his embrace. We’re lying on our sides, and his hand is resting on my belly, holding me to him. “Relax, freckles.” It’s as if my body needed his words as permission to do just that. I feel my shoulders relax and my body sinks further into the couch.
He mumbles something that sounds like “That’s my girl,” and I feel his lips press to the back of my head. This is way too much. It’s wrong, to be here with him like this, when we’re nothing to each other. Nothing more than acquaintances, yet here I am, letting him into my home. Again. Giving in to his demands. Letting him hold me. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a demand, but all the same, I shouldn’t be doing this. I just can’t seem to make myself pull away.
Drawing out of my thoughts, I turn my attention back to the movie. I let myself get lost in the love story. I’ve seen this one at least one hundred times, but it never gets old. I could repeat the lines by heart as if I played the role.
“So I can kiss you anytime I want,” I whisper with Reese Witherspoon as she stands before her leading man in the pouring rain.
Landon’s thumb traces small circles over my belly, and I endure it until the credits roll. Needing some distance, I sit up, pulling out of his embrace, and stand. “Dinner should be ready.”
His eyes are bright blue and filled with something I can’t quite name as he peers up at me. “Em,” he says softly, reaching out for me.
I step away from him. “I’m going to make us a salad. You eat salad, right?” My eyes travel to the eight-pack of abs clearly outlined beneath his form-fitting shirt.
“Yeah, I eat salad.” He drops his hand and pulls his long form from the couch.
Turning on my heel, I make my way to the kitchen. I don’t have to turn to see if he’s behind me. I can feel him. I gather the bag of salad mix, a tomato, a bag of cheese, and the bottle of ranch and French dressing from the refrigerator. “I only have French or ranch.” I hold up the bottles to show him.
“I’ll eat either.”
“Good. Tomatoes and cheese?” I ask.
“Yes.” He comes to stand behind me, looking over my shoulder as I start to prepare our salads. “What can I do to help?”
“Uh… there’s a bag of croutons in the cabinet there.” I point to the cabinet by the fridge. I quickly avert my gaze back to the salad in front of me to keep from drooling over him. I am holding a knife, after all. I need to stay alert or I fear I could lose a digit.
“Plates?” he asks, taking the lid off the Crock-Pot and bending closer to inspect the contents or maybe smell it; I’m not really sure.
“Above your head. There’s a spoon in the drawer in front of you.” I can hear him messing around, and with a quick glance, I see he’s plating us each some of the chicken casserole.
“This smells fantastic. What’s it in?”
“Just chicken breasts, cream of chicken soup, milk, salt and pepper, and some boxed stuffing.”
“Easy enough.”
“Do you cook?” I ask him.
“I know my way around the kitchen, but I don’t do it often. Cooking for one isn’t much fun. I always make breakfast. Hitting practice on an empty stomach is not fun. I eat a lot of takeout, or at Harvey’s. What about you? From the looks of this, you know your way around a kitchen too.”
“I can cook. I just don’t do it often. Like you said, cooking for one is not so fun. I had planned to eat this all weekend, and then take the leftovers into work for Aubrey, Chance, and CJ on Monday.”
