AllFreeNovel
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Tossing throw pillows to the side, I sit in the space beside him. Our arms inches apart, his heat hits my skin. His scent—a blend of graphite and pine and earth—hits my nose. Head forward, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and remind myself to breathe. To not fidget. To actnormal.
When my eyes open, I spot Devlyn in the periphery. His gaze heating my cheek more than any flush ever would.
Is it wrong to love his intensity? How deeply he studies every curve and line, dip and shadow of my profile?
I rotate my head until he comes into view. I sip my beer then pick at the label. Lick my lips. Swallow when his stare falls to watch the action. Break the spell when I lean forward and set my bottle on the table, next to his.
“Should we start the show?” I point to the screen. “Or wait for the food to arrive?”
Devlyn extracts his phone from his pocket and checks the time. “Fifteen-ish minutes until food. Let’s start.”
As I press play on the remote, Devlyn turns off the lamp. The room goes dark. Darker than dark. The inches between my arm and his vanishes. His heat may as well smother every inch of me on this couch, in this room.
An Albert Einstein quote fills the screen in German, subtitles listed below. A second later, ominous music follows and a man’s voice floods the room. And it is all I need as a distraction. The deep timbre demands my attention. The words beckon me to listen, to pay attention.
I thank whatever instinct told me to choose this show. Because I need the diversion. Need something to grab my attention more than Devlyn.
An eerie sound fills the air from a cave on the screen just as the doorbell rings. I all but jump out of my skin. Devlyn… laughs.
“Not scared, are you?” I shake my head and he laughs again. Rising from the couch, he exits the room. “Be right back.”
As my heart settles back to its normal rhythm, Devlyn strolls back into the room with two brown bags, sets them down, and rolls the two tables together. As I empty the bags, Devlyn tosses pillows on the floor between the couch and table. When I eye him, he simply says, “Makes it easier to share.”
Devlyn stares at the containers in front of me as if waiting for a sign to pop up with descriptions for each. I point to each dish and tell him what they are.
“Seaweed salad, veggie tempura, bulgogi.”
“Bul-what?”
“Bulgogi. Uh… essentially, it’s Korean BBQ. And so good.” I point to my last dish. “Yaki udon. Noodle soup with veggies and shrimp.”
He glances at all the food I ordered, then looks to his salmon teriyaki, rice, miso soup, side salad, steamed veggies, and noodles. His eyes dart back and forth a few times before he looks up.
“Will you eat all that?” His voice is absent of judgment but loaded with curiosity.
I shake my head. “Definitely not. I just love all the flavors and have a hard time deciding.”
A smile kicks up the corners of his lips. “Will you tell me the story behind why you laughed at sandwiches or sushi at the shop that first day I ordered lunch?”
“Only if you promise to try everything.”
He tips his head side to side in contemplation. “Deal.”
We dig into food. The screensaver replaces the pause point of the show, and I dive into the story.
“My best friend, Cora, loves every type of Asian food. We’ve known each other since elementary school and she wasn’t always this way. I remember when I stayed the night at her house. She begged her mom, Elizabeth—”
“Elizabeth from the shop?”
I nod. “Yep. That’s a story for another day.” There I go being presumptuous. “But she always begged her mom to cook us Kid Cuisine TV dinners. She always wanted the one with chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese, corn, and chocolate pudding. That’s how it was until early high school. She loved those damn things.” I laugh. “Then, one day, out of nowhere, she didn’t. She wanted lo mein and egg foo young. Teriyaki and ph?. Sushi and katsudon. When I asked her what sparked her sudden interest, she said her dad received a stack of gift certificates for restaurants near the beach. A few of them were to Asian restaurants. Went downhill from there.”
Devlyn’s lips plump as he mulls it over. Longer than a friend would, I stare at his lips. Unfortunately for me, I don’t look up until he clears his throat.
Cue my virginal blush.
Someone save me from a lifetime of humiliation. I beg you.
“So, me asking sandwiches or sushi was funny because you’ve probably had sushi with your friend thousands of times.” I nod. “Makes sense.” He takes a sip of beer. “What’syourfavorite food?”
