She shrugs one shoulder. “It’s better than nothing. Maybe I’ll have to get you to show me your skills one day.”
“I’d be honored to warm your panini, Miss Price,” I tease.
She laughs again as she pulls the oven open, then slides the tray of meat inside.
“What are your plans for the day?” she asks as I lower my ass to the stool at the island.
“Don’t have any. I’m sure if I looked at my cell, one of the guys would be in the group chat with something to do.”
“Do you spend a lot of time together?”
“Yes and no. We’re a weird kind of dysfunctional family.”
“I think it’s great,” she says, cleaning the counter where she was working even though it’s already clean.
“Sometimes it is. Other times they’re annoying as fuck.”
“When I was a kid, I always used to pray for a sibling so I had someone to play with or to understand what I was going through. You’ve got an entire teamful. It’s awesome.”
“I guess. I can’t say I have any sibling experience either.”
“Ah, only children unite,” she teases, drying her hands and then lifting her mug to her lips.
She blows across the top before taking a hesitant sip. The second the coffee hits her tongue, she closes her eyes.
I love that I can make her something that she savors and enjoys as much as I do the food she makes me.
“Did you stay out late celebrating?”
I shake my head. “No, I didn’t leave all that long after you.”
“Didn’t the guys hit a club after the bar?” she asks.
“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling it, though. I’m getting too old for all that. My hips and knees needed ice, not dancing.”
“After what I saw last night, I’m pretty sure you’ve still got all the moves.”
My brows lift. “Watching closely, were you?”
Her cheeks blaze.
Fuck. Why is it so much fun, getting her to blush like that?
I really need to stop. It’s not a habit I should be indulging in. But I can’t help myself.
Her eyes drop to her mug before she confesses, “Those warm-ups are something else. I didn’t realize men could move like that.”
“Glad you enjoyed them,” I muse, barely able to contain my amusement.
I knew she was watching me; I could feel her stare burning into me. But hearing her confess it…goddamn.
She falls quiet as she drinks. I follow suit, noting how comfortable I am in her silence. I’m pretty sure I’d feel awkward if it were anyone else in my kitchen with me like this. But there’s something about Freya that puts me at ease.
I wish I could say the same for her, but she seems to constantly be a nervous wreck around me. As cute as her embarrassment is, I can’t help but wonder what it’ll be like onceshe’s relaxed. Something tells me that she’ll be funny as hell when she stops second-guessing everything she says and does.
“What about your plans?” I ask.
“I’m heading to the mall, and then I’ll stop by the grocery store on the way back to do dinner. Is there anything you need?”
