With his back to me, I can’t be sure what Will thinks about the idea, although I know he isn’t camera shy.
He stirs the large pot on his burner, which smells freaking insane. Will comes from a family who can really cook, and therefore, I assumed that he’d had every meal handed to him throughout his life. I was wrong. There’s no doubting his passion for—and ability with—food.
I mean, who makes a lobster tail for an evening work meeting?
“So, I’d be guiding them through what time I wake up and how I prepare my body? From the light exercise I do to what I eat before a game?” He tips his head over his shoulder and smiles at me, but again, it falls a little flat from the usual grin I’m used to. “I guess I could, although I’d have to set up a tripod, and it would take a lot of editing.”
I schedule the post on the content calendar for a month from now. The regular season will be well underway by then.
“I can help shoot the video. We have access to camera equipment, and then I’ll edit it and show you the final take before we post it to your social media.”
Will’s halfway to his refrigerator when he pauses and turns toward me. “Is there anything you can’t do, Drew?”
Another compliment, another flush of my cheeks.
I clear my throat and open the Notes app on my laptop, checking off another item on the list of things we need to cover while Will begins to plate up the food.
“There’s plenty I’m useless at,” I tell him, pointing at the expert way he arranges the lobster, scalloped potatoes, and salad. “As you know, contrary to my dad’s talents, I’m terrible at ice hockey and skating. And I cannot cook to save my life.”
I’m also terrible at keeping my eyes to myself when faced with bulging biceps as Will carries my plate over to the island and sets it down in front of me.
But I’ll blame that on the unnecessarily tight black T-shirt he’s wearing.
Meanwhile, I feel overdressed, having decided to play it safe with a fitted black pencil skirt and a white button-down blouse. I wish I’d just opted for jeans and a sweatshirt, like most normal people would’ve done.
On a cheeky grin, which is way more typical of Will, he rests a palm on my laptop lid and slowly closes it until I retract my fingers so they don’t get trapped.
“It’s time to stop working now, Drew.”
There’s something about the gravelly tone to his voice that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I get why women find him so attractive. Even if I’d never ever confess that to anyone.
Picking up my laptop, he sets it on the vacant stool next to me, and I pull the food toward me, mouth watering at how delicious it smells and how hungry I am.
When Will slides onto the stool directly opposite where I am, he has his dinner in one hand and a bottle of white wine in the other.
Like he did in the restaurant that day, I set a hand over my empty glass. “I have an early meeting tomorrow, and I don’t need a headache.”
His shoulders drop as he sets the full bottle down and picks up still water instead, filling my glass and then his own.
“What do you think of the lobster?” Will asks after I’ve taken a couple of bites.
I point my fork toward my plate, trying to find the right words to describe the burst of flavors. It’s seasoned perfectly.
“Did your dad teach you to cook like this?”
Will takes a bite of lobster tail and nods once. “Yeah. He taught June and me, but I’m the better cook.”
I roll my eyes, and he chuckles.
“Sibling rivalries are intensified when you’re twins.”
For a second, I think about my relationship with Marley. Now nineteen, she lives in Vancouver, where she moved to be with her boyfriend, Greg, who is a couple of years older than her. She’s always been fiercely independent, and she’s working and studying to become a qualified social worker.
“The only things Marley and I fought over were clothes, shoes, and makeup.”
When I set my eyes back on Will, his plate is almost clean.
“And why are all hockey players the same?” I tip my chin at what’s left of his dinner. “I swear to God, I have no idea how you guys don’t give yourselves indigestion with the way you eat so fast.”
