I groaned. “Leave it all.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Okay.”
He left all the bags except one as he was about to step out.
“What’s in that bag?”
“Steak.”
I raised my brows. “Excuse me?”
“Lucy said the first day of your period, I’m supposed to cook you a steak. For the iron and stuff.”
“Okay, I’m officially about to die of mortification.”
“Why?”
“Brooks, this is—embarrassing.”
“Being a human being is embarrassing?”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “We’ll talk about this when you come out.”
“Never coming out. I’m dying in here. Bury me in here, please. Oh, but can you bring me a pair of underwear first?”
“Granny panties, yes?”
I groaned again.
Brooks chuckled and then closed the door behind him. While I was showering, Brooks brought the underwear and left them on the counter. I spent a few minutes stewing and finally decided; if Brooks wasn’t embarrassed, then I wasn’t going to be either. He was right. This stuff happened. We were people. It was normal.
The smell of sizzling steak in cast iron greeted me when I came out of the bathroom, still wrapped in a towel.
I discreetly shoved my clothes into the pile of soiled sheets and tried not to sigh about it.
“How do you like your steak?” he inquired. “I probably should’ve asked before starting to cook it.”
“Medium rare,” I said. “But I can’t eat steak first thing in the morning.”
I went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of comfortable sweats.
“Try,” he suggested. “I’m also making eggs. Steak and eggs are common and besides, I’ll eat what you don’t.”
I went to him and embraced him from behind. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For taking care of me.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.”
“Then thank you for not being all weird about stuff.”
