“You don’t need that shit anyway,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee.
“Thanks,” she said before scooping some eggs onto a plate and grabbing a piece of toast out of the toaster. “The butter is softening. Jam or cinnamon sugar?”
“Cinnamon sugar,” I said with a smile. “It’s in the cabinet above the canisters.”
“I like that when I’m sick too,” she said, rubbing my arm as she put the plate in front of me. “You do look a lot better today.”
“I feel better. And it’s all because of you. You healed me with khichdi and Twix bars.”
“Well,” she said, hopping up on the barstool next to me. “I think I’m going to let you get some rest. I’ve gotta get home and take a shower.”
“Listen,” I said, turning my body to face her and placing my hands on her knees. “I’ll chill today, but let’s do something tomorrow.”
“If you’re feeling better.”
“I will be.”
Lyra laughed. “Fine, it’s a date.”
“Good.”
“Thanks again. I’ll never forget this, Lyra,” I said, squeezing her knee.
“And I won’t let you,” she said with a wink. “Oh, and I left your T-shirt and boxers on the chair. Thanks for letting me borrow them.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll see ya.”
“Tomorrow,” I corrected her.
“Right. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kissed me on my forehead and I pulled her in for a hug.
“God, I really, really hope you don’t get sick.”
“If I do, you’ll just have to take care of me, right? I mean, if you can handle it, obviously if I can too.”
“Deal,” I said with a decisive nod. “And I’m gonna let that comment slide because these eggs are so damn good.”
Lyra left my apartment with a laugh and a soft smile. As soon as the door clicked behind her, I abandoned my delicious eggs and toast to walk across the room to the chair where my clothes sat. Grabbing the T-shirt in my hand, I sat down on the chair and inhaled the smell of Lyra. It smelled like her hair—like strawberries, pears, and sensuality. And I never wanted to wash that damn shirt ever again. Better yet, I wanted her to wear it all the time while she danced to Keith Urban in the kitchen. I wanted her to wear it while she read Wuthering Heights in my bed. I wanted to smell her everywhere in my apartment and for her presence to awaken every last one of my senses. Because lord knows it would.
Fuckin’ A. I’m in so much trouble.
And I can’t wait for tomorrow.
Chapter 20
LYRA
It was Sunday afternoon and I was waiting for Dev to arrive at my apartment for our daytime date. He’d assured me he was feeling completely like himself again and that he’d surprise me with our activity, promising it would be something we’d both enjoy. He said to dress comfortably, especially when it came to my shoes.
I was intrigued. Like, very intrigued.
He arrived right on time, once again, only this time he didn’t bust into my apartment complaining about my place being hard to find. Instead, he arrived dressed in a gingham checked Oxford shirt and a crisp pair of khaki pants. His hair was perfectly styled, and he held a bouquet of hot-pink dahlias, my favorite flower. My breath hitched as he handed them to me.
“How’d you know?” I asked, holding the bouquet to my chest as I beamed at him.
“I have my sources.”
“Maren.”
“Just, you know, sources.”
“Maren.”
“Fine, Maren.” Playfully, he stuck his tongue out at me. “That’s one of the benefits of our best friends being engaged. I have built-in intelligence working on my side.” He moved closer and I could smell the cinnamon lingering on his breath as he pulled me in for a kiss. Careful not to squish the flowers, I wrapped my free hand around the back of his neck and stroked the hair at the base with my fingertips. He pulled away just a bit and shivered.
“Holy shit, that’s hot. God, I’ve missed you.”
Laughing to myself, I pressed my lips to his, tasting the cinnamon. “It’s only been a day.”
“A day too long,” he murmured, his lips traveling from my lips to my neck.
“I’m glad you’re feeling so well. You definitely seem more like yourself again.”
“Yeah,” he said, pulling back. “And so…are you ready to hear what we’re going to do today?”
“More than ready.”
“Axe throwing.” He put his hands out as if he was about to say “ta-da.”
“Oh,” I said, a little surprised. “Are you sure you’re up for something like that? I mean, you’re still getting over the flu. That’s a really taxing activity, considering you were on your couch for the majority of the last three days.”
“I’ll be fine. And I’ve been thinking about this. You’ve seen me in a compromised state twice now.”
“So?”
“So, I can’t have you thinking I’m this total weakling. I’m a man,” he said, standing tall and puffing out his chest in an overdramatic way, a ridiculous smirk on his face.
Reaching around to grab his ass, I squeezed as I replied. “Believe me, I know that.”
“Whoa. Don’t stop doing that, by the way.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “But my point is, you’re like this sexy Florence Nightingale and everything, and don’t get me wrong, you took care of me better than anyone ever has…and that’s saying something, because my mom is basically an angel sent from heaven—”
“Dev, what are you getting at?” I narrowed my eyes, squeezing his ass once more for good measure.
”Just don’t get used to me being a weakling. I’m a strong, virile man who is more than capable of rocking your world. And throwing an axe.”
“Do I seem concerned?” I raised an eyebrow.
“No.” He shook his head. “It just needed to be said.”
“Why? Why did it need to be said?” I paused, studying his face. He looked conflicted, like he wanted to tell me something but couldn’t come up with the words. “Did Peter and Scott give you shit or something?”
He threw his arms up in the air. “Yes! Those fuckers!”
“Well, as much as I love those guys, they’re morons. Spraining your ankle didn’t make you a weakling. And you were just as gorgeous with the flu as you are right now. ”
“You think I’m gorgeous, huh?” he said, wrapping both arms around my waist and pulling me close, pressing his lips against my forehead. I loved being nestled into his chest, even if my brand-new flowers were getting a little crushed. It was worth it.
“Maybe,” I said, my breath catching at the feel of his lips against my warm skin. Part of me wanted to skip our date altogether and just drag him into my bedroom to have my way with him. And even though I suspected he wouldn’t object at all, he seemed to have something to prove, so I swallowed my desire and wrapped my head around throwing axes together…on a date. I knew it was a trend, but it wasn’t something I’d ever thought of doing.