"You’re not eating,” he said.
“You’re being bossy,” she shot back.
Torin grinned at her. “I made you an omelet because I wanted to impress you. Please stop being difficult.”
“You already impress me,” Nova stated. But she gave in and cut off the end of her half of the omelet.
Torin watched as she lifted the bite to her mouth and chewed. When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “Well?”
“Well what?”
“What do you think?”
She used the side of her fork to cut off a bigger bite. “It’s the best omelet I’ve ever had.”
He smiled as though her words meant the world to him. It was disconcerting.
Torin could be arrogant, rigid, even harsh. It was difficult for her to believe that her opinion would matter such a great deal to him.
He nudged the bowl of fruit toward her. “Try the cantaloupe.”
“I will if you stop telling me what to do,” she retorted.
“Please try the cantaloupe?” he repeated.
She sighed because his words dripped with snark, but she took a bite. He was right, it was as sweet as candy.
“It’s good,” she said.
At her admission, he finally picked up his own fork and began eating.
Nova liked this. They were at his kitchen island, eating breakfast from the same plate. There was an intimacy to the action that made her chest feel a little too tight, but in a good way.
As though they were sharing more than breakfast, but a life.
Nova sipped her coffee, but she already knew from working at the restaurant that Torin made the perfect pot.
Once they finished the omelet and had eaten a good deal of the cantaloupe, Nova put her fork down and leaned her chin on her hand.
“That was delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, picking up the empty plate.
She hopped off the stool. “You cooked. I’ll clean.”
He didn’t argue as she loaded the plate, their forks, and some of the other kitchen utensils in the dishwasher. In quick, economical movements, she washed the pan and wiped down the cutting board. All that was left was their coffee cups, which they’d just refilled.
Nova faced him, leaning her butt against the sink. “Torin,” she said to get his attention.
“Yes?”
“I’m still not sure about staying here while they fix my apartment.”
He crossed the kitchen and put his hands on her hips. “What can I do to convince you?”
She tilted her head to one side. “I’m not sure.”
His eyes were focused as he studied her face. “How about this? You stay with me for a few days, and we’ll see how it goes. If you need more space or time to yourself, we’ll figure something else out.”
