Page 94 of Kulti


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No big dealthat Reiner Kulti was sitting here, hanging out.

“Are you hungry?” I was starving. By this point in the day, I’d normally already be on my second meal.

“No,” he replied, still not turning around from his focus the television.

Ieyedhim and started looking through my freezer for something easy to cook. There were some frozen turkey breakfast patties, fruit and a whole grain baguette. The frozen fruit I set aside to blend into a smoothie as I got the rest of it ready. Kulti didn’t say anything as I made my meal, but I knew he was fully aware of what I was doing.

When I was done, I had a blender filled with a weird smoothie of almond milk and leftover frozen fruit. I poured two drinks and put my makeshift breakfast sandwich on a plate.

“Here,” I said, holding a glass over his head from behind.

He tookit from me without a word, setting the glass on the coffee table. Stiffly, I took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, plate on my lap, smoothie on the coffee table and sat there watching the survival show on the screen. Kulti manned the side table as I ate my food, making a mess all over myself, because it hurt too much to try and have manners.

“Why doyou have so many recordings of this show?” he asked, browsing through my DVR.

“Because I like it,” I told him. Though, okay, it was only the partial truth. I did like it. I also thought the two guys who tried to survive in different conditions and environments were really attractive.

Kulti madea humming noise but clicked on the oldest episode at the top. I definitely wasn’t going to complain.

Not even fifteenminutes into the show, the German completely turned his entire body in my direction, his face suspicious.

Isetthe plate on my lap and blinked. “What?”

“You like themor the show?”

Oh brother. Marc had laughed hysterically when I admitted how hot I found the two men—they were in their early forties, both graying, one at an early stage of hair loss, but I didn’t care. They were really attractive and the whole survival thing only helped. What did I have to be ashamed about? “Them, mostly.”

Kulti’sfacial expression didn’t change, but his tone said it all. “You’re joking.” He couldn’t believe it. What was the problem? They were both good looking.

“No.”

He blinkedthose green-brown eyes at me. “Why?” he asked, like I’d just told him I drank my own pee.

Ipickedthe plate up and held it directly under my mouth before taking a bite of my sandwich. “Why not?”

“You areyoung enough to be their daughter,” he ground out. “One of them doesn’t have hair on half his head.”

Itookanother bite of my food and watched him carefully, not eventhinkingit was weird that he seemed so outraged at who I found attractive. “First off I doubt they’re old enough to be my dad, and secondly I could care less about a bald spot.”

Kulti shook his head slowly.

Okay. “They’re both in good shape, have nice smiles and nice faces.” I glanced at the screen. “And I like their beards. What’s wrong with that?”

His mouth gaped a millimeter.

“What?”

“Do you have father issues?”

“What? No. My dad’s great, jeez.”

His mouthstill hadn’t closed that tiny gap. “You like old men.”

Ibit both my lips, eyes wide. I’m sure my nose flared a little bit. How close to the truth he was, and it almost made me laugh. Instead, I shrugged. “I wouldn’t sayold,merely… mature?”

Kulti staredat me for so long I started laughing.

“Stop lookingat me like that. I don’t think I’ve ever been attracted to guys my own age. When I was younger…”I’d been in love with you, I thought but didn’t say out loud. “I thought they were dumb and then it just stuck,” I explained.

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