I quickly get it in the oven, along with the broccoli into the microwave and rice on the stove top. I’m assuming Sullivan’s still in the tub since I haven’t seen or heard from him. Making a mad dash for my bedroom, I take off my work clothes only to debate with myself about what to wear.
Normally I wear a tank top and shorts, but it feels exposed with Sullivan here. Even though we’ve seen each other naked, there’s a part of me that wants to prove we can hang out with each other. That not every time we’re in the same space, we have to act on this crazy lust we feel for one another. If all we have is lust, then what are we doing here?
Lust sizzles and fades.
Love and true feelings remain.
Sighing, I pull my hair back into a ponytail. It’s not that I love Sullivan. I could, but not yet. There’s still so much we don’t know about one another. Secrets I haven’t shared, and I’m sure there’s plenty he hasn’t either.
When I’m comfortably wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, I move back into the kitchen.
I’m not prepared to see Sullivan standing there, waiting on me.
Damn does he look good in my kitchen.
For precious moments I don’t make my presence known. I want to watch him, commit every tattoo and muscle to memory, to know exactly where each drop of ink begins and ends. Only those that mean something to him know these things. He’s a notoriously closed book to most he meets, but the more I’ve hung out with him in the past year, the more he’s opened up to me.
But it’s in these quiet pieces of time, where I can admire him without him knowing. They show me more about the man than anything else can.
He’s leaning against the counter, a soft smile on his face as his fingers move on his phone. Looks like he’s opted for comfort too. Sweatpants hang low on his waist, a worn t-shirt covers the top half. It says Paradise Lost High School Basketball.
“Did you play?”
His head shoots up. “You’re ninja quiet,” he laughs.
“You were involved.” I gesture to his cell phone.
“I’m being harassed by Karsyn to be a bachelor in your auction.”
“You already agreed,” I argue.
“I don’t really remember agreeing.”
Going to the oven, I open the door, before bending to check the chicken. While bent, I cast a glance over my shoulder. “Pretty sure you agreed.”
His eyes are staring at my ass. “You stay like that, and I’ll agree to anything you want.”
“Then tell Karsyn you’ll be auctioned off with me.”
He puts the phone on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do I get to bid on you?”
My pulse speeds up. “If you want.”
His tongue peeks out from between his lips, caressing them, leaving a trail of moisture behind. “Oh, I definitely want.”
“Let’s hope you’re the highest bidder.”
“Been savin’ my pennies.” He winks.
Clearing my throat, I straighten up, grabbing a potholder. “Chicken’s done, and so is everything else.”
“Let me get you something to drink,” he offers. “What do you want?”
I drank with him last night, and I make it a habit not to drink two nights in a row. “There should be some sweet tea in there.”
He finds it, putting two glasses on the counter, and pouring from the pitcher. “You like three ice cubes, right?”
“I’m impressed you remember that about me.”
“Oh, Counselor, you’d be surprised. But why three?”
“Two isn’t enough and four waters it down.”
He chuckles, picking the glasses up and taking them to my living room. We’ve eaten together enough not to have any pretenses about me sitting at the kitchen table. I always eat on the coffee table in the living room. He sets them down, along with napkins and silverware.
“Is this enough for you?” I scoop the broccoli onto his plate.
“Perfect.” He grins. “I’m surprised you had anything of the green variety in here.”
“Once or twice I’ve thought about losing this extra ten pounds I’m carrying. Never got around to making that shit though.” I point to the green stems on his plate.
“Don’t.” He grabs hold of my finger.
“Don’t what?”
“You’re perfect the way you are, Shelby. Don’t try to fit into someone’s asinine idea of what a woman should look like.” He reaches down, his fingers circling around my hips. “I like something to hold on to.”
“You never answered my question.” I put my hands on his chest, wanting nothing more than to pull him closer. Instead, I settle for feeling his heart beat.
“What question was that?”
He tilts his head to the side, coming in for a kiss. This one is different from all the others. There’s no edge of passion and lust to it. It speaks of comfort and ease. A gentle melding of two lives. When he pulls back, I reach up, wiping the moisture off his bottom lip.
“Did you play basketball in high school?”
“Oh.” He tosses his head back slightly. “I did.”
“Where you any good?”
He lets go of my hips, putting a hand over his heart. “You wound me. How can you ask me if I was any good? I mean shouldn’t you assume I am?”
We grab our plates, walking to the living room. “If there’s anything I’ve learned since becoming a lawyer, it’s that I shouldn’t make any kind of assumption. More times than not, it’s going to be wrong.”
“This chicken is phenomenal. What did you marinate it in?”
“It’s a secret. My own recipe.” I take a bite of the rice. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Alright, alright. I was captain my senior year, lettered, and even went to the state championship game. We didn’t win.”
“You still sound bummed about it.”
“We had some shitty referees; they didn’t like us because we were from a small town. They made some shoddy calls and they cost us the game by three points.”
A thought runs through my head, and I have to say it out loud. “I bet you had plenty of girls offering to make it better for you afterward.”
He coughs loudly on his drink of tea. “I can’t believe you would think so low of me, Counselor.”
“Oh give me a break.”
We’re quiet for a few minutes as we get busy eating. It isn’t until I’m almost done and he is done that he leans back on the couch, holding his stomach, that he answers me. “It wasn’t afterward. I had to ride the bus with my teammates. It was a few hours later in my Dodge with a bench seat. Head cheerleader.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
“Because I was captain and she was the head cheerleader?”
I nod.
“Shoulda listened to the other guys on the team who’d been with her. She gave sloppy head, like almost bit my dick off. I’m sitting there trying to get it out of her mouth and she’s clamped down. Worst experience of my life.”
A snort works its way out of my nose as I imagine a high school aged Sullivan trying to get his dick out of some girl’s mouth.