“I have no objection to that,” I tell him, but he shakes his head.
“No, we’re going to spend time together that doesn’t involve being naked. Let’s actually talk.”
My hand goes to my chest. “Oh, the horror.”
Surprisingly, I’m not feeling bad about it. He’s fun to be around, and after the rigmarole he put me through last night, I’m prepared for anything. Hopping off the counter, I land lightly on my toes, then grab the cereal and take it to the two-person dining table on the other side of the room. He makes his coffee and grabs a mixing bowl, which he cracks several eggs into. Next he adds herbs, spices, and a few diced vegetables.
“Omelet?” I ask. I’d expected him simply to have cereal like me, but I can’t blame him for wanting something more exciting; the smell coming from the bowl is enough to make my mouth water.
“Not just an omelet. The best damned omelet in the world.”
I smirk. “You talk a big game.”
He pours the mix into a pan and turns to face me, resting his forearms on the counter. “There are five things I cook well, and I’m awesome at them. Everything else is a total bust.”
“Good to know.” Helping myself to another spoonful of cereal, I can’t help thinking how much worse it tastes now that I can smell the omelet cooking. I have regrets. I should have waited for him to get up before eating anything, but I thought he might be one of those people who sleep until mid-morning, and I’d have fainted from hunger by then. My body needs regular fuel.
“What else can you cook?” I ask.
“Hmm.” He studies the countertop thoughtfully. “I make a mean stir fry. Fried rice. Thanks to Mom, I can do a Sunday roast. Oh, and my mashed potatoes are fucking delicious.” He purses his lips and twists them to the side. “Yeah, that’s about it. How about you? Do you like to cook?”
“Yeah,” I admit, even though it’s something I keep quiet because it doesn’t exactly go with my tough reputation. “I learned how to make traditional Thai food from the locals in Phuket, and I make it a few times a week. It’s one of the things I most miss about Thailand.”
He nods. “They do have great food.” While I finish my cereal, he flips his omelet and then plates it. “Would you like some?”
“Maybe a little.” I hold my thumb and forefinger an inch apart.
“No problem.” He portions off a second small serving and joins me. We sit together and talk. Not about anything in particular, but the kind of stuff that people in a relationship ought to know about each other. Like how his parents don’t understand his love of MMA, which must be difficult for him. My mom has always been supportive, even when it scared her. In return, I tell him stories about growing up in small-town Oregon, and about the places I visited while I was living overseas. We’ve long since finished breakfast and are lounging on his sofa trading fight stories when my phone rings. I glance at the Caller ID.Seth.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Where are you?” His tone is terse.
“Uh.” I widen my eyes at Devon and show him who it is. “Out with a friend.”
“Oh.” He sounds subdued. Disappointed. “Are you coming in to train?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there in an hour or two.”
“Good. You still have a lot to learn before your fights.”
My gut twists with shame and guilt. “I know. Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”
“See you soon, Harley.”
I don’t miss the emphasis on ‘soon’. “See you.”
Hanging up, I meet Devon’s eyes. “I’d better head off or he’ll be pissed.”
He nods. “I’m glad you stayed this morning.”
Pleasure and wariness war inside me, but pleasure wins. “Me too.”
Soon after, I shower and leave. Seth is withdrawn at training. Watchful. I hate it. And that’s why, when Devon texts later to ask me to come over again, I know I should say no.
But I don’t.
Because even though it may mean I have poor judgment, the thought of being with him makes me giddy. Indulging in whatever is going on between us must be one of the worst ideas I’ve had, but I want more of his jokes, his touches, and his attention.
