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“Screw him. You don’t owe him anything.”
“I know.”
He glances over my head into the condo, then his eyes fall down to mine. “I was just about to make myself dinner. Want to join me?”
I don’t know if he’s asking me out of pity or if he genuinely wants my company, but I smile. It will be good to get out of my own head. “That would be great, if you’re sure.”
He shrugs a big shoulder. “No sense in both of us eating alone.”
It’s not exactly a ringing endorsement that he wants me to be his guest of choice, but I’ll take it because he’s my guest of choice.
Twelve
Chase
As soon as Twyla opened the door to her condo, I could tell she was upset. She put up a good front, but it was clear from the lost sparkle in her hazel eyes.
When she told me her ass of an ex had reached out to her, I wanted to demand that she give me his number so I could set him straight. I kept my caveman instincts in check because she’s not mine. But my invite to dinner is because the thought of her alone in her apartment, moping, grates on me.
She said she wanted to change into something more comfortable, so I return to my apartment. Just like when I arrived here a half hour ago, Zeus trots over, tail straight up in the air, and rubs himself on my legs—leaving a trail of cat hair in his wake. My black athletic pants are full of hair now.
Ignoring the cat, I go into the kitchen to start dinner since I told Twyla to let herself in. I remove the salmon and vegetables from the fridge and get to chopping up the veggies.
About ten minutes later, the door of my condo opens and Twyla appears in the kitchen wearing a pair of high-waisted black leggings and a thin sweater that hangs off one shoulder. Her hair is in a messy bun on the top of her head. She looks cute and wholesome but somehow still sexy as hell.
Apparently that’s a combination that does it for me because it takes a helluva lot of willpower to strip my eyes from her and concentrate on the veggies I’m cutting so I don’t lose a finger.
“You like salmon?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
I finish cutting the veggies, throw them in a bowl and add a little olive oil and seasoning, then mix it all together. I set them all on the metal grate I use on the barbeque to roast vegetables, then pull the cedar board I let soak in the sink all day out of the water.
Once I have everything ready to put on the barbeque, I look over to where Twyla is playing with Zeus with some string-on-a-stick toy she grabbed at the pet store.
“I’m just going out to the patio to grill.”
She looks away from the cat, quickly standing. “I’ll join you.”
A sense of pride that she’s choosing me over the damn cat washes over me, as absurd as that is.
She helps me carry the veggies out to the balcony. Once everything is grilling, I sit across from her at my outdoor table.
“Thanks for making me dinner,” she says.
“You say thank you a lot, you know that?”
“What’s wrong with that?” She pretends to be offended, but I don’t think she really is.
“Just an observation.”
“Tell me, what else have you observed?” She tilts her head and gives me a flirtatious smile. My dick perks up.
“That you don’t text back.”
The smile slips from her face. Shit, I ruined our moment.
“I was trying to think of something witty to respond with when Mathew texted and threw me for a loop. Then I lay down on the couch and fell asleep. I meant to text you back.”
