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6
Cole
Looking at the clock on the wall, I see it’s after one in the morning. I can’t sleep. It’s been hours since I’ve seen Lyla, and I haven’t stopped thinking about her. Which is fucking insane to me. She came home from the studio shortly after I got home. I expected to joke around, to make sure things weren’t awkward between us since we officially took sex off the table, but she was really quiet. I asked if she was hungry, but she said no. She joined me on the couch, and we sat there, not talking for hours. It was actually nice.
Still, I’ve had less than a handful of conversations with her and already I know she’s nothing like any other woman I’ve ever met. Sure as shit the polar opposite of my ex, which only makes me want to get to know her better. I don’t even care if it’s at my own expense. She can bust my balls all day long if it means I get to hear that sexy sweet voice of hers.
The way she called me out for telling her when I’d be home only intensified my curiosity. Lyla doesn’t seem to give much of a fuck about petty shit like my overbearing ex-wife did; she’s real, down-to-earth, easy to talk to, and the only thing my cock will let me think about. Fuck.
Running my palms down my face, I continue to stare up at the ceiling until I hear someone moving around the house. It sounds like whispering. Maybe Marcus is sneaking out a lady friend. I don’t want to open the door to that. The sound doesn’t stop or get louder, so I chance a peek and crack my door. It’s coming from the kitchen and sounds more like Lyla then Marcus which makes me smile even though I really wish it didn’t.
Shaking my head, not thinking about it twice, I quietly trek downstairs. I find her pulling out every content of the refrigerator and pantry. My eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. “And what are we creating in here?” I say, scaring her.
She jumps five feet and spins around. Her hair’s not straight like before; it’s in small tight curls, her eyebrows are up, and her pointer finger is in her mouth, sucking some food off it. My cock twitching instantly in my sweatpants, all I want to do is pop her finger out of her mouth and put it in mine. I am in so much trouble.
“Hey,” she says with a shy smile. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
“You didn’t.”
“Cool.” She nods.
“So, what are you making?”
“I have no fucking clue, and I’m really not sure why I bothered at this point.” She exhales a heavy sigh, and I see a sad look in her eyes that I instantly have the need to change.
“Yeah not a lot to work with I see.” I take in all the different food options and notice the round glass storage dish with the blue lid my little sister brought over the other night.
“Well, you could make anything with this and have a good night.” I hand her the dish, and her eyes narrow skeptically.
“What is it?”
“Weed butter courtesy of Willow, my younger sister.”
She instantly lights up, and I hand it to her with a smile. She looks around the island and all its contents and grabs the honey, the sugar, and a few other things I missed as she turned and dove back into the pantry. I laugh quietly at her excitement. I’ve never had the butter before, but I have been high so this should be interesting, especially with her.
“Weird question but do you guys have a casserole dish?”
“I don’t even know what that is,” I say, hoping for a laugh, a giggle, a smile, anything. I’m going to have to work harder. She’s deep in the zone, not looking at me, just moving around the kitchen in a flurry. “Can I help?”
Shoving my hands in my pockets and rocking back on my heels, I wait to be bossed around. What the fuck? Why did I offer to help? I thought I was trying to get along with this woman; now I’m just saying stupid shit I don’t even mean to.
“Want to put on something to listen to? I have an idea, and you might actually want to stay up for this.”
Her smile spells trouble, and all my thoughts are directly inappropriate.
“On second thought, that sounds way too romantic. How about a movie? Or a basketball game? I really don’t care as long as it’s not sappy bullshit. It won’t take long to whip this up, and I promise it will be delicious.”
Lyla wags her eyebrows at me with a sexy smirk, I almost forgot she’s talking about food. Clearing my throat with a sad excuse for a cough, I step over and grab the remote from the coffee table.
“Did you catch the fight tonight?”
“No, I don’t think I’ve ever watched any kind of fight ever actually. Was it good?”
“I’ll put it on now. It’s fun to watch, especially when you’re really pissed off. Just imagine you’re the one kicking someone’s ass, all while getting high on your couch.”
“Sounds like my kind of sport.” She comes around the couch and sits next to me, and the smell of vanilla engulfs me. Her black curls bounce as she tucks her legs under her.
“I like your hair like that,” I say unconsciously.
