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Ha, he’s talking to me!
“I guess I just assumed you wouldn’t know how to cook. You’d have people to do that for you.”
He laughs as he takes a big bite of his food, then chews. My heart rate spikes at the roughness in his laughter. It’s sexy.
Stop.
“What?” I ask.
“We had cooks growing up, but I can feed myself. I also make a mean bowl of cereal.”
“Has Gordon Ramsey heard about you?”
“Please. If I worked for someone who swore at me, I would punch them.”
Seems fair. “You’d be the one doing the swearing, anyway,” I tell him.
“I’m going to be a lawyer. It comes with the territory.”
“Why do you want to defend bad people?”
“Why do you assume they’re bad? Not everyone facing serious charges is guilty.”
I shrug. “Lots of them are. Wouldn’t you feel weird about helping someone you knew was a killer?”
“Everyone deserves a good defence.”
“Not fucking murderers, though, Casper.”
He laughs again and takes another bite. All right, I think his happier mood has returned. Maybe he just had nothing to say when he first came in.
I have the most ridiculous urge to move a little closer. Warmth radiates from him. Mix that with the scent of his aftershave—or just him in general—and I’m not coping very well over here.
The ice in my veins he gifted me with earlier is now replaced with fire.
I’m tied up in knots, a ball of anxiety, waiting to see what he will say or do next. I don’t want to go back to the way things have always been between us.
We settle into a comfortable silence of him eating and me trying to force small nibbles down without it coming back up.
I can no longer tell what I’m apprehensive about, exactly, but it’s wrapped tightly around me, not going away.
“When are you calling Imani and Freya?” he asks.
“I’ve been thinking about that and I’m not going to. At least not yet. They’ll want to come home or for me to go to them.”
He slowly turns my way. “You don’t want to join one of them? I’m sure they would be happy to have you.”
“And crash their time with their families? No, thanks.”
Though, I would love cuddling those goats.
I have thought about blowing my student loan on a plane ticket to join my aunt and uncle on holiday, but I have a few months left at uni, so I’ve got to sit here and pretend that I’m stronger and more confident than I feel.
“They’re your best friends,” he says.
His reply is so simple. He’s someone who probably goes to see friends at the drop of a hat no matter where they are. I would do whatever it took to be with my friend in need, but flip that around, and I don’t want to be the reason someone has to change their plans.
“Yeah, but I’m not going to intrude on their time. Besides, families are kind of…”
