“I made them a treat too,” she tells me, shifting the pan to the large island where the rest of the food is waiting.
As Kenzie discusses fiber and carbohydrate content, my focus snags on a long string dangling from the back of her cutoff jean shorts. Doesn’t that tickle her? It would drive me crazy. An idea surges to the front of my mind, sharp and electric, as Kenzie rearranges bowls and pots.
This abandoned string gives me the opportunity to touch Kenzie. Something I haven’t done since our kiss on the couch four days ago. True to my word, I’ve taken it slow. We’ve been more intentional about spending time together before I leave for the ballpark, but it’s all been platonic.
But now…
My fingers flex at the thought of sliding my hand from the back of Kenzie’s knee upward to catch that taunting string. Maybe removing it could be a platonic action. A friend would absolutely remove a loose thread, right?
A hard exhale leaves my nose because, no, I wouldn’t run my hand up Tenny’s leg. I’ll have to tell Kenzie about it instead. Even though it feels like every cell in my body is pouting, I open my mouth to speak.
“You’ve got—”
My words are swept into the mariachi music blasting through the kitchen speakers. Kenzie jumps at the instant influx of joyous trumpets and strumming guitar.
“Sorry,” she says, focusing on her phone to turn down the volume. “I was listening to an audiobook earlier and had the volume all the way up.”
As I step behind her, Kenzie glances over her shoulder, a quizzical but happy look on her face.
“You’ve got—” I try again, but my words die as my body takes over. The temptation is simply too great.
My knuckles graze the back of her leg, slowly dragging up until I collect the wayward string in my fingertips. Kenzie’s lips part as our gazes hold for three thudding heartbeats before she licks her lips. I wonder what flavor they are today. An array of flavored lip balms are always scattered around the house—grape, peppermint, apple. I really hope it’s apple. That’s what she’d been wearing during our first kiss.
When her focus dips to my mouth and stalls, my sanity returns in full force. I’m not supposed to be doing this, standing too close, fantasizing about her lips on mine. I’m supposed to be molasses on a cold day.
I snap the thread and hold it up like a trophy when the real prize would have been knowing what flavor lip balm Kenzie applied today.
“Loose thread.” Since my voice sounds like a washing machine full of shattered bottles, I clear my throat and lift the string higher. “See.”
“Oh.” Kenzie tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking everywhere but at me. “Thank you.”
This is where I should make a plate of delicious food and retreat to the safety of the stools on the other side of the island. Then I can work up the courage to destroy the wonderful evening Kenzie has made for us by telling her about what I overheard. She’ll be upset, but Kenzie deserves to know that Aaron rejecting her hadnothingto do with her.
Still, I can’t bring myself to ruin all her hard work. I’ll tell Kenzie later, when she’s not making my chest ache by being so incredibly thoughtful. It’ll be easier to explain my teammate’s lies when she doesn’t have a cilantro leaf in her hair and refried beans on the apron that drives me mad. It’s pink, like most of her favorite items, with tiny polka dot hearts and distracting ruffles around the curved hem.
My hands rise to grip the countertop on either side of her, surprising Kenzie as much as it surprises me.
She turns, pressing her back to the cool marble as sweeping music swirls around us.
“I’m going to make a plate,” I tell her, not moving.
“Okay.” Her breathy tone is really not helping my diminishing willpower.
“Everything looks delicious.”
Especially your lips.
Her cheeks pink slightly, and I barely restrain a groan.
“Thanks.”
“Here I go,” I say, convincing no one.
Kenzie nods, her gaze skipping all over my face.
“I don’t think anyone has ever made me a meal like this.” Maybe telling her the truth will jolt me back in line so I can stop boxing her against the counter like a Neanderthal.
Her forehead wrinkles. “Never?”
