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“Anyway, that was a long time ago, and I’ve always felt like I owed you an apology, but you’ve been great at avoiding me. I can only assume you’ve blocked my number, but to be honest I never called. Didn’t even send a nice text to check in, although I thought about it. I’ve been a coward, and I’m sorry, Robin. You deserve better.”
“Well, damn. Thank you, but I was the one who snuck into your room unannounced, so it really is my own fault.” She laughs lightly, seemingly in jest, but the tension still crackles between us.
My cock is already sprouting a semi at the memory of her, but now, she’s turned with her backside to me, reaching up for the pasta noodles. My heart stops beating for a full minute.
Her fuckin’ ass is incredible and currently being eaten by a pair of tiny black shorts.
I’m rendered speechless and stare like a weirdo.
“Here, I’ll help,” she says then turns back around, doing just that.
She gets the cutting board our moms have shared for holidays. Then the veggies, dicing up the green pepper and onion.
I do the simplest task of browning the ground beef. I season it and throw the garlic bread into the oven.
It’s all strangely comfortable as if the two of us cook together all the time.
At one point, she pulls out her phone, hooks it to the surround-sound speakers throughout the house, and light jazz drifts through the air.
“I remember you being more of a metal head? This is a surprising choice,” I tease.
“I’m a mood listener,” she tells me with a shrug, a sly smile tugging her lips as she takes another sip her wine.
“Italian and wine inspires Sinatra? Gotcha.”
“Mmm,” Robin moans, smelling the air. “Yes, and it smells like that Italian is finally done.”
We set the table for two then enjoy our pasta with a salad and a lot of wine.
Two hours after that, we’re sitting together on the couch, laughing over our third bottle.
“Damn, it’s midnight,” I say with a yawn.
“Want to watch a movie?”
Her question surprises me, but the wine has me forgetting why I shouldn’t spend more time with her.
I internally scold myself, even while nodding. This isn’t a good idea. I need to make an excuse and leave, but instead, I finish my glass of Merlot and search for a movie.
“What about a romantic comedy?”
“Or a horror?”
I chuckle at her suggestion but end up choosing a slasher in the end. Setting down the remote, I grab a blanket. She’s spread out, lying on the couch, and I just smile.
Without a second thought, I take the chance to lie with her. Jokingly, I fumble over her and tease her for taking up all of the couch.
“Did you double in size since I last saw you? I’m falling off.”
She laughs, but I take the chance to wrap my arm around her soft waist and pull her close. My dick jumps on contact, and again, I curse myself.
“Is this okay?” I ask. If she’s not comfortable, I’ll jump up.
“Uh, yeah,” she says, her voice low and breathy.
Metal blares from the big screen TV in the large living room as the movie starts. There are two other long couches, and yet, here we are. What was I thinking? Fuck, this feels too good. She smells too good.
Animal Shelters. Grandmas. Fuck, calm down, big man.
