He nods. “Yeah.” He drinks his wine. “I hate being in limbo like this.”
“I know. Believe me, if I could ink a deal tomorrow, I would.”
“I know.” He holds my gaze. “I trust you, Kate.”
“Thank you.” My heart bumps.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Dinner? Um…steak.”
“I’ll help you cook.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
We take our wine to my tiny kitchen and start cooking. Hunter seems to know his way around a kitchen, getting the potatoes in the oven to roast, peeling and mincing garlic. We chat as we cook and move around each other in the kitchen. It’s easy and fun, but also every time he brushes an arm against me reaching for something or bumps into me as I move to the stove, heat and sparks flash through me. Must keep my hands to myself and not feel up all his muscles.
I heat up the skillet to sear the steaks before popping them into the oven to finish them. As I cook the spinach, Hunter makes the red wine sauce for the steak.
“You seem to enjoy cooking,” I comment.
“I do. I also like eating.”
“Me too.”
Soon we’re sitting on the two stools at my little island with our dinners and more wine. Hunter cuts a piece of steak and pops it into his mouth. “Fantastic.”
“Oh good.”
“I hated spinach when I was a kid.” He picks up some on his fork. “But now I actually like it.”
“I always liked it. And it’s so healthy.”
“Yeah. I still try to eat like our nutritionist taught us in college.”
“She was wise. I have to admit, I’m not as dedicated as I was, now I’m not playing. I do enjoy a big bowl of popcorn or potato chips once in a while.”
“Once in a while is fine. I’m not saying I never eat junk.”
“How about dessert? I got these amazing caramel chocolate squares.”
“My weakness. Caramel anything.”
I smile. “I do recall that.”
There are things I don’t know about Hunter…all the things he’s done since college, his new friends, the women he’s been with. But the things I do know about him make this so much easier than being with a stranger. We’re comfortable with each other…but also a little on edge, with unintended heated looks and sizzling touches.
How is this happening?
There’s a hockey game tonight. Conference finals. I turn on the TV to see what’s happening and we both get comfortable on opposite ends of my couch to watch. Except I keep glancing at him, taking in his profile as he watches TV, the drape of his shirt over his hard-packed abs, his long legs. A couple of times, I catch him looking at me and my skin heats.
We drink wine, talk about the game using shorthand, and finishing each other’s sentences. I like being friends with Hunter. I really do. But damn, it’s hard not to think about being naked with him.
13
Hunter
“Thanks for dinner.” I’m about to leave even though I’d rather stay and wrap my arms around Kate and kiss her senseless.
“You’re welcome. This was fun.”
“It was.”
She arranges her face into a neutral expression. “Could we get together again Wednesday?”
“Sounds good.
I leave her apartment and find my car where I parked it in a lot a few blocks away. As I drive home, I can’t stop thinking about Kate.
After I told her about my phobia yesterday, I felt like such a dork. But as usual, she didn’t judge me, just accepted it. Everyone’s afraid of something, right? I remember in college the fake snakes in the cooler trick that totally freaked out Bingo when he went to grab a bottle of water. He’s terrified of snakes. He was crying, he was so scared.
Mascots aren’t even my biggest fear. My biggest fears are too big to even name.
Kate is amazing. Beautiful. Sexy. Smart. Caring. Driven. She loves hockey as much as I do. I love spending time with her. I do want to be her friend. I guess it’s best we keep things like that, but fuck, I had a hard on the entire time I was at her place. It doesn’t help that I remember exactly what fucking her was like. She’s physical and sensual and enjoyed it as much as I did.
But that’s in the past, and I guess it has to stay there.
When I get to the apartment, Hakim is sprawled on my couch playing Super Smash Brothers. He glances up at me. “Hey. Where were you?”
“Went out for dinner.”
“Ah.” He focuses on the big screen TV. “With Kate?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
He smirks, not looking at me. “Not a tough guess. You two were practically setting off the smoke alarms yesterday every time you looked at each other.”
“What? Fuck off.”
“Fucking your agent isn’t going to get you a bigger contract.”
My eyes bug out of my head. “What did you just say?”
Hakim grimaces. “Uh…”
I pin him with a laser gaze.
“Sorry.”
“That’s not what this is. We’re just friends.”
“Just reminding of you that little fact.”
“I know that, asshole. Get off my couch.”
“Sit on mine.”
“Fuck sake.” With an exaggerated sigh, I stretch out on his couch, grabbing a cushion for my head. I stare up at the ceiling. Thanks, Hakim, for reminding me…we’re just friends.
“You wanna golf tomorrow?” I ask Hakim.
“Sure.”
I think about naked Kate. I think about her mouth. I think about how her long legs wrapped around me, and… Fuck, I’m getting another stiffy.
“I’m going to bed,” I announce, rolling off the couch before Hakim notices my boner.
“Okay.”
A man of few words.
In my bedroom, I can give in to thoughts of Kate. Kissing Kate. Fucking Kate. Kate’s mouth on my cock. I let out a groan as I take hold of my dick and jerk it. I’ve been doing this a lot lately, thinking about Kate.
I have to stop thinking about her like this. She’s my agent, as Hakim helpfully pointed out. I need to focus on my goal—getting that big, new contract.
Kate made a reservation at a restaurant near her place, so I meet her at her apartment and we walk the few blocks to Sasha’s. The narrow street bustles with pedestrian traffic, parked cars lining each side. Older, non-descript buildings create an urban tunnel of brick that’s somehow charming.
Sasha’s is a tiny place with dim lighting, a marble bar, and very close tables. Sensual music floats and mingles with the chatter of voices and clink of glass and cutlery. It’s…intimate. Sexy.
We take our seats at the table for two. The candle on the table gilds Kate’s skin, and she’s showing excellent skin tonight—a sleeveless black top with a wide neckline. Her lips gleam pink and her long bangs emphasize big, shadowy eyes.
Our waitress recommends the Negroni, the cocktail special, so what the hell, we both order that and check out the menu until she arrives with our drinks.
“I am not eating beef tongue,” Kate mutters, her forehead furrowed.