Maybe I should let him bring it up?
“You still want to make dinner with me tonight?” he asked.
After spiraling out so hard, I had totally forgotten. “Right,” I said. “It’s strawberry shortcake night, isn’t it?”
“I’ll make those veggie dogs you picked up in town if you’ll make your grandma’s dessert,” he said with a nod.
“Sure,” I answered cautiously, my hands flitting behind my back. “If you still want to, that is.”
Cass smiled softly, his lips parting. “For those strawberries?” he said. “Sure.”
His nature put me more at ease, and I managed to talk like a normal person while we set ourselves to work in the kitchen. The anxious feelings from before were still there, but as the minutes passed, I was shedding them. Cass stood at the counter, chopping vegetables as the veggie dogs sat in a marinade, and I gathered together the strawberries, cream, sugar, and other ingredients I needed, Grandma’s recipe coming back so easily I didn’t even have to look it up. I didn’t say much while we worked, and neither did Cass, but somehow, the rhythm of cooking together felt right, like confirmation things were okay between us. Like maybe he didn’t see me after all.
I bent down to open the drawer beneath the stove and fetch the baking tray, and when I did, my butt bumped against his hip. “Oh, sorry!” I said quickly, the baking trays loudly clattering as I fumbled, then jumped back to full height.
Cass’s hand landed on my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine. “No problem,” he said. “I’m used to a small kitchen.”
My cheeks burning, I nodded, then flipped on the oven to preheat. “What’s your apartment like in Nashville?”
“Just a studio. I liked to be outside when I could, and more often than not, I slept over at Monica’s anyway.”
Right. Because that was what people did. They dated someone appropriate and slept over at that person’s house. Very unlike me, who preferred to creep at people while hiding in the trees.
“How about your place in Atlanta?”
“About the same. I had a little studio in student housing, but I wasn’t home that often.”
I grabbed the butter, and when I turned back, Cass was right behind me, so close I could practically feel his heat on my skin. “I’m just grabbing this skillet,” he said, reaching above my head to the hanging pots and pans. I pressed myself back against the stove as his body teased close and the suggestion of his touch vibrated straight through me.
I sucked in a breath and grabbed the handle on the oven to steady myself.
“Got it,” he said, lowering the skillet. I let out the shaky breath and stepped aside so he could use the stove.
“I bet you I can imagine it.”
I swallowed. “Excuse me?”
Cass laughed, then sat back on the edge of the counter. “Your studio apartment. There were probably maps of the stars all over the place, right? And books and notes piled up on every surface, like it was here that first night I got into town.”
I adjusted my glasses. “That’s right. I guess I forgot that you saw that.” It was probably more like I had forced myself to selectively erase that memory, but whatever. “I had a lot of houseplants, too,” I added, like an afterthought. “My friend Audrey got me into keeping them.”
“Let’s not talk about the decorating scheme at my place,” he said with a crooked smile. “Unless crates of records and old drum equipment counts as interior design.”
“You’d have to ask Leo. He’s the stylish one.”
Cass glanced me up and down. “I don’t know. You had a pretty nice cardigan on the other night.” He reached out, then tousled my hair playfully. “Hot stove,” he said, turning his attention back to the work.
I stood there composing myself from the puddle I had turned into. Just the feel of his hand through my hair was enough to undo me. Was Cass so oblivious that he didn’t notice the effect he was having? I was lucky if that was the case, but weirdly, it was like I wanted him to notice, too.
Like I was disappointed he hadn’t seen me that afternoon. It didn’t make any sense, but standing there in the kitchen, I couldn’t deny that it was true. I wanted him to know how I felt about him, even as the thought horrified me. Especially because those feelings kept growing, like my crush was blooming into something even bigger while the summer stretched on.
We finished getting the food ready, our hips and shoulders brushing together as we worked. Once everything was prepared, I tossed the shortcake in the oven. The veggie dogs were delicious, from the toasted buns to the caramelized onions and slices of crisp dill pickle. They were so satisfying I ate three, just like Cass did, but it was nothing like the pleasure I got from serving him the warm strawberry shortcake after and listening to his satisfied moans as he ate.
When we were all finished, I gathered the plates. I was more than ready to clean up and retreat to my room and to stop torturing myself every time Cass smiled my way. After I dropped the dishes in the sink, though, he appeared behind me.
“What do you say?” he asked. “Want to play around with that telescope of yours tonight?”
Chapter Eight
