Conspiratorially, I leaned in, gesturing for her to join me. “It’s your turn to close, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Yes, but—”
“Great. Then Taryn will be leaving with me in thirty minutes.” I stood up straight and saluted her with my cup. “Nice talk.”
Smirking, Taryn turned her face away, but I let my attitude show loud and clear in my expression.
With a sniff Hailey spun on her heel and went to work washing pitchers and glasses and whatnot. Good thing all the utensils were made of plastic and metal with the way she slammed them around. Taryn glanced up from where she was stacking cups beside the coffee machine and smiled. I smiled back and found a table near the counter.
Thirty minutes later the shop had emptied out of half the customers who’d been there when I arrived, and no one had come in to replace them. Clearly, Hailey would have no trouble closing up.
When T came out of the office without her apron on, I was ready to go. My sandwich and drink had barely made a dent in what practice had taken out of me.
“Wanna go grab some real food?” I asked hopefully as we headed out to our cars.
“I made chili over the weekend. I bet there’s enough left over if you want to come over.” Her expression hovered somewhere between teasing and shy.
As if I’d pass up homemade food. “I’m all over that. I’ll follow you.”
After I’d parked behind her on the street outside her place, I grabbed my backpack off the passenger seat and followed her to the stairs. The sweet sway of her ass as she climbed the steps to the landing outside her apartment left me hungry for more than food. Truth be told, I was starving for her, but this change in our relationship was too new. After the way I’d hurt her when I dragged her behind Reed Hall, I’d learned my lesson. We were a thing, but I still needed to take my time, ignore my nature, and not push.
I dropped my backpack on the floor near the catch-all table beside the door and kicked off my shoes. Then I followed her to the kitchen area of the open-plan space that served as a front foyer, living room, and kitchen. Taryn had positioned her couch as the divider between living room and kitchen, and as much as I wanted to just hop over it and land behind her where she was already rummaging in the fridge, I held back.
Skirting the end of the couch, I pulled out one of the two chairs tucked under her teeny dinette table and sat down.
“What else would you like with your chili? I have a bag of salad in here, and cheese and bread for toasted cheese sandwiches.”
“Sounds great.”
Straightening up, she turned and stared. “All of it?”
Lifting my hands up in a what-can-I-say gesture, I said, “I played hard in practice today, and it’s been a minute since lunch.”
“But you had a sandwich at the Coffee Kiosk.” She laughed. “Never mind.” A second later she was assembling ingredients for dinner on the one square foot of available counterspace between the fridge and the sink.
I would have helped her—wanted to help, in fact—but short of standing on top of her, there wasn’t much room for two people to work. She put the chili in the microwave above the stove and set a pan on the burner. Then she sliced some cheddar and mozzarella, buttered the bread, and set two sandwiches in the pan. While the hot food cooked, she shook the bag of salad into a bowl and set it and a jar of homemade ranch dressing on the table. She hummed a little under her breath and sneaked glances at me.
I could have sat there all night watching her prepare a meal because she looked so happy, like cooking something for me was fun. One of these days when my roommates had somewhere else to be, I wanted to invite her over to cookwithme, in a space big enough for both of us to move, yet small enough for us to bump into each other every now and then as we worked.
“How was practice?” A shadow crossed her face. “Better than yesterday?”
“I kicked Bax’s ass on a block and scored a touchdown on a skinny-post play that faked our safety right out of his cleats. It was epic.” I grinned. “Bax is being a spoilsport about it, so I think tomorrow I’m going to ask him to be my spotter when we lift, let him see what I do in the weight room. It’ll make him feel better about having his ass handed to him by a receiver.” I couldn’t help the laugh that accompanied my words.
“So you had a good practice.” She smiled as she set plates and bowls on the table.
“I did.” Leaning back in my chair, I asked, “How did your quiz go?”
“Better than I thought, especially without some review.” The corner of her mouth quirked up. “For some reason, I was more relaxed than usual, which might have helped.”
“Huh. No one’s ever accused me of helping them relax before.”
“Who said anything about it being because of you?”
If she hadn’t been carrying a hot bowl of chili to the table, I’d have jumped out of my chair to remind her who’d spent the afternoon helping both of us to relax for maybe the first time since we met.
Seating herself in the other chair, a table covered in food between us, Taryn invited me to help myself.
I filled a bowl with steaming chili, the smell of which had my mouth watering and my stomach rumbling. Then I set it in front of her, switching it with her empty bowl. Her eyes widened at my move, but she said nothing. After ladling chili to the brim of my bowl, I set it in front of me, picked up my spoon, and shoved in a bite. Hot, spicy, slightly acidic tomato flavor burst over my tongue. The soft umami of black beans and the delicious texture of beef burger had me dipping my spoon back into my bowl before I’d swallowed the first bite. Closing my eyes, I groaned as a food orgasm threatened.
