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“You got it.” He kissed my temple and went in search of his phone. I set about cleaning up my mess. I drained the water and dumped the soggy, yet somehow still raw, dough into the trash.
At some point I was going to have to get good at this, wasn’t I? Even mediocre would be an improvement. Or maybe I could just leave all the cooking to Mack. A picture of him cooking for us in his kitchen back in Brooklyn flashed up behind my eyes. Not the strangest sight, he’d cooked for me plenty of times before, but this looked different. Felt different.
Everything was feeling different. It was hard for it not to when he continued to surprise me. This man who I was confident I knew everything about kept pulling things out of those big sleeves of his. It both scared and delighted me. And also made me realize that, even with him, even for as long as I’d known him, for the hours upon hours we’d spent together, I’d held him slightly away. Never risking my whole heart, even for our friendship. One foot was always on the threshold because, in my head, it was easier to leave than be left.
I couldn’t go on like that. I didn't want to go on like that. I wanted to pull him close and hear all his secrets and tell him mine. I wanted to keep him forever. As much as the idea of that scared me, I knew he was worth it. But how did I go about trying to change something so deeply rooted in my psyche? Something that went all the way down to my wiring? Was it even possible?
He smiled at me from the living room, his hair sticking up at wild angles and his eyes bright, the blue so vivid I could imagine myself diving right in and drowning. My heart flipped over in my chest. I was in love with him. I was in love with him and we hadn’t even had sex yet. Not that the sex really mattered, because I had a feeling I’d been in love with him since we kissed on the night of the wedding. Even before.
I was in love with him, and I was going to hurt him. I knew it already because I wasn’t good at this. Because I didn’t know how to be in a relationship without looking for the first crack.
Panic rose up like a wave in my chest, threatening to take me down whole and never let me up. I tried to breathe through it, to tell myself that it would be okay, but I was a terrible liar. It wasn’t going to be okay. How could it? How could it be okay when I knew, with an unshakable certainty, that I was going to mess all this up and lose him forever?
“Hey, what’s going on?” Mack asked, arms sliding around me, anchoring me back into my body. “Where’d you go?”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to keep it together if I opened my mouth.
“It’s just pasta, Chase. And hey, if you’re serious about the cooking class maybe we could go to one together?”
I choked on a sob. Of course he’d suggest we do it together, because he’d do anything I asked and more. He’d do things I didn’t realize I even wanted.
“Or not, no cooking class. Maybe I could give you a private cooking class?” he said, eyebrows wagging and I let out a soggy laugh. “There she is …” One finger slipped under my chin and tipped my face up. “You cannot be the queen of cocktails, a boss ice skater and cook killer noodles. It wouldn’t be fair. What would be left for the rest of us?”
“You can make pie and ice cream, and you surf,” I said with a sniff.
He shrugged. “I am a fucking pleb, grateful you let me stand in your shadow, Chastity Heather.”
That got a laugh that was a little less soggy. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And I will continue to be if it means I get to see you smile.”
I buried my face in his chest. Letting the panic subside for the moment. It was going to hurt like hell when I messed it up. But for right now, I was happy to live in denial, and pretend like maybe this could be forever.
Sleep lifted slowly,and as I blinked my eyes open it took me a second to remember where I was. The Rockaways. In Mack’s bed. The previous day came back in pieces, each new one sending a swirl of warmth through my belly. I would not have been surprised to wake and find it had all been a dream.
Only it wasn’t, I knew this because there was no way any dream of mine would include going into the ocean in the middle of December. Or failing to make pasta noodles correctly. All the rest of it though, dreamy.
I snuggled deeper into the warmest, fluffiest duvet I’d ever felt and realized that, despite being in Mack’s bed, I was alone. Before I could drag myself up and go in search of him, he appeared in the doorway holding a large tray.
“Good morning.” he said with a slow, seductive smile. He was in a pair of low-slung, plaid pajama pants and a long sleeve Henley pushed up to his elbows. I’d seen him naked yesterday. I’d been naked in the shower with him—twice. And yet, right now, the sight of those forearms was getting me hot like the flash of an ankle in Victorian England.
“Good morning,” I said, wiggling myself up to sitting as he crossed the room and joined me on the bed. My mouth watered. The tray held two large mugs of coffee, a bowl of chopped fruit, croissants (both chocolate and plain) and donuts. Maybe I was still dreaming.
“Good. Morning.” I repeated, not only for the food but because he looked good enough to eat himself. Messy hair, sexy sleepy eyes, and just enough scruff on his jaw to make my fingers twitch to touch it. He was rarely clean shaven, but he was usually neater than this. It was a shame.
I bypassed the food and coffee and went straight for him, straddling his lap, fingers running over the line of his jaw.
“Coffee first?” he asked, blue eyes roaming my face.
“You first.” Morning breath be damned, I couldn’t wait.
He smiled, hands moving over my lace-covered butt. I kissed him, slow and lazy, enjoying the drag of his stubble on my lips, cheeks and chin. Mint and coffee met my tongue and an appreciative sigh left me. Perfect. So fucking perfect. I would never get tired of his mouth. Not ever. A flicker of the panic I felt yesterday licked at my insides but I ignored it. I was too lost to the moment, to the man. I wanted to stay here forever. We’d escaped the real world and found a little bubble that was just for us.
I fumbled with his shirt, struggling to pull it over his head, but it was soon free and my chest met his, skin to skin. The feel of it sent lust racing through me. Lust and more. We needed to slow down, though. It was a miracle that we’d managed to behave last night. I didn’t know if I’d be able to do it again this morning.
“Coffee now,” I said, once I’d managed to pull away.
“Fuck the coffee,” he growled, claiming my mouth with unrestrained need. I met him, clinging to his shoulders as he stood. The breakfast tray was disposed of on the floor and then he was on top of me on the bed. The weight of him was everything. The press of his hip bones, the nudge of cock on my stomach.
