AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m sorry, what was that?” His cheeks go red. It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who suffers from a blushing affliction.
“Lev.”
I smile. “Is that your name?”
“Yes.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“You’re very pretty.”
He says it as soft as a whisper, but I hear it clearly. I give him a warm smile. “Thank you, Lev. And thank you for letting me use your basement. I promise I’ll give it back as soon as I can, okay?”
He wrings his hands together and nods. Then he gestures for me to follow him and bounds over to his video games.
* * *
We play games into the wee hours of the morning.
We don’t exchange a single word the whole time, but strangely, I can feel him relaxing with each passing hour.
Once I’ve lost the twentieth game in a row to him, he puts his controller down. “You’re really bad at this.”
I laugh. “You’re right. Iamreally bad at this. But you know what I’m better at?”
“What?”
“French toast. Do you want some?”
His eyebrows pull together and he shakes his head. “Too soggy.”
“Ah. Whatwouldyou like to eat then?”
“Cornflakes.”
“Perfect! I’m great at making cornflakes, too.”
My joke clearly goes over his head because he doesn’t even crack a smile. “You are?”
I nod. “Come on, you can watch me make them.”
He follows me into the kitchen and watches carefully as I pull out two bowls, two spoons and the half-eaten bag of cornflakes that’s sitting in the fridge. I pour in the cereal, add the milk, and push a bowl towards him.
“Ta-da! Gourmet.”
He stares at me, then at his bowl, and finally at mine. “Wow. You reallycanmake cereal.”
My heart shudders. I know I should laugh but I really just want to cry. No, what I really want to do is hug him. I would, too, if I didn’t suspect that he would be completely freaked out by any sort of physical contact between us. He’s made sure to keep at least a few feet of space between us at all times. I’m not gonna cross that line until he does.
He takes a big spoonful; a trickle of milk slides down the side of his mouth. “It’s delicious.”
“Thanks, Lev. You’re the only one who appreciates my cooking.”
“Uri would like it, too,” he insists. “Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, we sit in the kitchen and eat cereal together.”
Oh God, don’t tell me that.I don’t need another reason to like Uri. God knows I have enough as it is. Of course, I have just as many reasons to hate him. But somehow, that latter list isn’t as compelling or as convincing as you’d think.
Damn those pheromones.
