“Wasn’t me.” I plead innocent. “It came that way.” I go to her and hold out a hand. “I’ll refill it with tap water. How’s that?”
“Perfect.” Her grin widens until it’s fully present. And holy hell, what a grin. If I could see it every day for the rest of my life, I’d be a happy man. Maybe it’s special because of how rare it is, or perhaps because of the tiny flash of teeth between her slightly parted lips. Whatever it is, I’m addicted. “I’m not fancy, Devon. You don’t have to pull out all the stops for me.”
I bustle into the kitchen, tipping the offending liquid down the drain, then rinse the glass, and refill it from the tap. “Maybe I want to.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t understand you.”
I pass her the drink and sit opposite. “Because you’re not trying.”
Her nostrils flare. “What makes you think that?”
I shrug. “I’m not a difficult guy to understand. I say what I think and I don’t have anything to hide.”
I grab two plates and begin to serve our food.
She glances up. “Need a hand?”
“No, I got this.”
She waits at the table while I dish up roast chicken, potatoes, carrots, and steamed broccoli. I bring it back and set a plate in front of her, taking the other for myself. The cutlery is already laid out; she picks hers up and scans the meal.
“This looks really good.” She raises her eyes to mine. “What other surprises do you have up your sleeve?”
“Just wait and see.”
“May I?” She gestures at the food with her cutlery, and I nod. At home we always said grace first—something a young me struggled with, having absolutely zero patience compared to my parents, and it isn’t a tradition I’ve continued. She tastes a piece of potato and moans. “This is amazing. I totally underestimated you.”
“Glad you like it.”
She smiles shyly. “Next time, I’ll have to make you a curry.”
My heart stutters. “Next time?”
“Mm.” She sips her water. “Assuming there’s going to be a next time.”
“I think that depends on you.”
“Not really.”
My brows knit together. What does she mean? Haven’t I made it clear that I’ll go on as many dates as she wants?
“Explain.” Which jolts my memory. “And then explain what you meant by that comment before.”
Focusing on her meal, she talks without meeting my eyes. “You don’t know me well yet, and I’m afraid you might not like what you find when you do.” She brushes a hand through her hair and I want to argue that my soul knew hers the moment we met, but she’s actually right. I don’t know all of her secrets and troubles. But I want to. “I’m not always a fun person to be around. I’m an athlete. My life is training.”
“I think you’re fun,” I argue. “And your lifestyle is part of what draws me to you. I never thought I’d end up with anyone until after I retire because how would I fit them into my life? But you and I fit perfectly. We’re both obsessed with our careers.”
She nods, acknowledging this. “So is it just that I’m convenient?”
“No!” I shoot to my feet, knowing instantly that she’s thinking about her asshole ex, then I take a deep breath and park my ass back down. “Of course not. I…” I trail off, figuring out how to phrase this without sounding nuts. “When I first walked into that gym and saw you, it was like I caught a glimpse of your soul, and it called out to mine. We might not know each other well yet, but I think that inside, where it counts, we’re the same. That’s not all, either. You make my heart beat like crazy every time you’re near, and you’re so fucking beautiful I can’t take my eyes off you. There’s nothing convenient about that.”
She blinks, apparently stunned. “Thank you. That’s one of the loveliest things anyone has ever said to me.”
“I mean it.” I cross my finger over my heart. “Your past sucks. I think we can both agree on that. But perhaps it was the universe’s way of bringing you to me.”
She gives me a searching look. “Do you believe in fate?”
“Yeah, I always have. As best I can figure, that’s why I’ve survived when I’m kind of accident prone. It wasn’t my time to go. Do you?”
