Not that Haddie needed Levi. Or anyone, for that matter. But maybe a warm, snuggly feeling wasn’t so bad, even if it was only temporary. As long as Haddie knew this friendship was only temporary, she could banish all other expectations from her mind and just enjoy the moment.
She heard the unmistakable sound of a cork popping behind her, liquid sloshing into one glass and then another. And then she felt his chest against her back, felt and heard his slow, shaky inhale.
“That smells incredible,” he whispered, an arm reaching around to offer her the stemless glass.
Even among the garlic and other spices, Haddie could smell the fresh, woodsy scent of Levi’s soap, which meant he’d showered after practice.
It’s just soap, she reminded herself. But something about how it mixed with his ownLevi-ness made her wish there was a window she could open so she could gulp a breath of non-Levi air.
Haddie grabbed the wine with her free hand and fought the urge to drain it in one long sip. She killed the heat on the pasta and slid to her right so she could turn around without them having to be chest to chest.
“I need to…” She nodded toward the sink where a colanderwaited for her pasta.
“Right,” he said, staring at her for a beat, but then he didn’t move. “Sorry,” he added as if reading her thoughts. “You just have some flour…” He brushed his thumb over the tip of her nose. “There!” he added, triumphant. “All clean.” Then he grinned and sidestepped out of the kitchen as if he hadn’t just been so casually sexy to a woman who was already overheating for too many reasons to count.
“You suggested the wine, genius,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Did you say something?” Levi asked, already back in the other room.
“Nope!” Haddie lied. “But clear the table. I’m about to plate everything up!”
Two minutes later, she met him at the table with two full plates, shocked to find that Levi had stealthily set the table with napkins and silverware he’d somehow snuck out of the kitchen when her back was turned. And for the love of Toblerones, the man was standing behind what had quickly become Haddie’s regular chair, holding it out for her to sit.
She swallowed, set down the two plates, and stepped in front of her chair.
“Um… Thank you?” she told him with a nervous smile.
Levi stepped out of her way so she could slide her chair closer to the table. He reached through the kitchen window and grabbed her almost empty wineglass from the counter, refilled it from the bottle on the table, and then returned to his usual seat. He shrugged.“Figured if you were going to cook for me that I could at least do the heavy lifting of grabbing a couple of forks and making it infinitely easier for you to sit down.”
Haddie laughed. “I was really worried about how I was going to coordinate all of those difficult tasks. I don’t know what I would do without you,” she teased, then clasped her hands under her chin and batted her lashes at him. “My hero.”
Levi held up his own refilled glass of wine and nodded for Haddie to do the same. “To Mondays?” he asked.
Haddie wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure I want to say cheers to the most dreaded day of the week.”
Levi raised a brow. “I don’t know. So far, it’s my favorite day of this week.”
Haddie laughed. “Because you’re the first P.E. teacher and coach to realize he loves reading essays?”
“No,” he replied, a surety in his tone that made Haddie’s stomach tighten. “Because no one has ever cooked for me before just for coloring on a paper towel, and I’m guessing you don’t cook for people unless you really like them…unless they’re one of your favorite people.”
Haddie groaned. “You’re impossible.”
“In a one-of-my-favorite-people kind of way?”
She groaned. “If I say, ‘To Mondays,’ will you cease being impossible?”
“If you say, ‘To Mondays,’ does that mean I’m right? About the favorite thing?” he countered.
Haddie straightened in her chair and jutted out her chin. “Howabout, ‘To roommates who better finish their toast and eat their dinner before it gets cold’?”
Levi laughed. “‘To Mondays’ it is!” He clinked his glass against hers and they both took a sip. Then he set down his glass, picked up his fork, and shoveled a mouthful of pasta into his mouth.
He tilted his head back and moaned in a way that Haddie was sure wasn’t a sound Levi usually reserved for culinary delights.
“It’s just pasta,” she told him, the words coming out more defensive than she’d intended.
Levi’s brown eyes fluttered open as he swallowed and took a swig of his wine before responding.
