“I couldn’t find his pen,” she says, her gaze dipping.
“Don’t worry about it.”
She shakes her head, bites her lip, and God, I want to kiss her.
“We shouldn’t be standing here, in the weeds,” she finally says and lets Miles drag her toward the house, past Teo and me. “There may be more infected ticks.”
Damn, she’s right. I wonder why I didn’t think of this, why I can’t get my brain to function. Is it because she’s around or because of the fatigue that plagues me day in and day out?
I follow her inside, kick the door closed and sigh with pleasure to finally be out of the cold. Not that the heating is working properly.
Teo is asleep, a dead weight in my arms, and I carry him to his bed. It’s unmade, the way we left it Sunday—was it Sunday? Can’t fucking remember—when we left in a hurry for the hospital. I take off his shoes and jacket, and he shivers as I cover him up with his cartoon-themed quilt.
Yet his forehead feels cool when I touch it, and the relief is overwhelming. I pat his bag of pills and the prescription in my pocket and ruffle his hair. He snuggles under the covers and sleeps on.
“You’ll be fine,” I tell him softly and leave the room, closing the door behind me.
Now to deal with the fact that Tess, beautiful, perfect and out-of-reach Tessa, is in my shithole of a house for the first time. If this doesn’t send her running…
Hey, it has to happen, sooner or later. Besides, isn’t that what I want? Send her running away from me, before the sinkhole that’s my life sucks her down?
Maybe I should make up my own goddamn mind.
***
When I enter the kitchen, I find Tessa rummaging in the fridge. She’s shed her coat, and her black pants mold to her shapely ass.
Goddammit. My cock takes notice and starts to harden, pushing against the fly of my jeans.
Fuck, she’s hot. I’d take her right there, on her knees on the kitchen floor, push inside her to the hilt, listen to her moan and beg me for more. I’d reach around and touch her tits. I remember her nipples, large and rosy, begging to be sucked and licked. I’d stroke her clit until she comes, and then as she comes I’d thrust inside her harder, faster. I’d come as she’s still coming, and we’d lose ourselves to pleasure together. Holding on to each other. Melding into one.
Shit. My hard-on is massive, and I reach down to adjust myself in a hurry. At least Miles isn’t in the room. Jesus.
Placing myself behind the fridge door, hiding my lower body, I clear my throat and she looks up.
“Miles said he wanted hot chocolate,” she says. “If there’s one thing I can prepare with my eyes closed it’s this.”
I nod and lean back against the counter, folding my arms over my chest. I glance around. The table is dusty and stained. The sink is filthy. The dirty dishes have been sitting there for days and probably have mold growing on them. The stove is encrusted with old food. A cold draft comes from a cracked window high up the wall.
I know I should’ve cleaned, but I didn’t have time for anything more than hasty breakfasts and dinners and work in the past week.
How different this place is compared to what Tessa is used to. I remember her apartment, impeccably furnished, clean and shiny new. Seeing this kitchen will convince her never to come back. And although that’s what I keep telling myself would be best, I hate the thought.
“Do you ever cook?” I find myself asking and snap my mouth shut as soon as the words leave my mouth.
Yeah, chase her out even faster. Great job, Dylan.
“Sometimes,” she says to my surprise. “I like cooking. It’s like art, but with a useful result.”
“Useful.” I can’t help a chuckle. “You probably cook those new cuisine dishes, like… like caviar with a dash of rosemary, or something.”
Instead of getting pissed with my comment—and why can’t I keep my fucking mouth shut?—she grins at me.
“Caviar with rosemary?”
“Or lobster with champagne sauce or something.”
“Says the guy who doesn’t know how to cook anything but pasta and omelets.”