“I want to. Now shh.”
“Did youshooshme, Abbott?”
“Sure did,” I replied, unable to stop my grin. Without second-guessing myself, I grabbed her waist and lifted her.
“Noah! What?—”
“Sit.” I placed her on the counter, letting my fingers linger on her curves for one more second. She was so fucking soft, and I wanted to dig my fingers into her. I let go and busied myself with making her a coffee. “You know what this reminds me of?”
She tilted her head. “College?”
“Yes, but specifically the night at Ben’s house.”
I pressed the button on the grinder and waited for it to finish. “The omelet disaster.”
Her groan hit the back of her throat. “No. We are not talking about that.”
“Oh, we are,” I said. I tamped the grounds into the portafilter and locked it in. “You climbed on the counter like you were teaching a cooking class. God, you were so great. You told me you could crack an egg one-handed. You missed the bowl completely. It hit my chest and rolled under the fridge.”
She covered her face with both hands. “It was dark. I was drunk, and I still swear to this day, that the bowl moved!”
“The bowl did not move,” I said. “You blamed me and then tried to demonstrate again. You almost fell off the counter, and I caught you before you busted your teeth.”
She peeked between her fingers. “You made fun of me formonths.”
“You smelled like eggs for days,” I said. Her laugh filled the kitchen, and I swear, the sound hit every nerve in my body. I placed a hand on the counter next to her leg, leaning in closer than I should have. “I should thank you. That was the night I realized you could make anything fun, even making eggs.”
Her breath slowed. Her knees brushed my hip. She held my gaze a little too long. “Mm, well, that’s kinda cute when you put it that way.”
“You always make things better when you’re involved. Always felt that way and still do,” I said, hoping the words landed and she believed them.
She swallowed, her pulse at the base of her neck racing before she cleared her throat and looked away. I let her, because what the fuck was I doing? Hitting on her? No.
I frothed the almond milk the way she liked, then poured the coffee, added the caramel, and finished it with a sprinkle of cinnamon.
She smiled wide, her eyes crinkling as she held out her hands. “Gimme, gimme!”
“It’s hot, so be careful.”
“You remembered it perfectly!” She squealed, then brought the mug to her nose and inhaled. “This smells divine, Noah.Divine.”
“Good.” I leaned against the counter beside her, smiling at her obvious joy from a cup of coffee. That was what I didn’t get about her family. Em was so easy to be with, to laugh with. The simplest things made her happy. I nudged her knee with my elbow, waiting for her to take a sip. “And?”
“Unnnnh,” she moaned, rolling her eyes into her head.
Chuckling, I squeezed her knee. “I’ll take that asyou’re the fucking best, Noah.”
“Take it that way, please. You are.” She took another sip, and I swore her shoulders relaxed. I didn’t want to bring up the sore subject, but I was curious.
“Tell me about your dad.”
She tensed but took another sip. “Way to ruin the moment. We were bonding.”
“We’ve bonded enough,” I fired back, still grinning despite her attitude. “Tell me.”
She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, then met my eyes. “It’s the same thing as always. He wants me to come home. He thinks my dreams are hobbies. He left me alone to raisehischildren when he cheated on my mom, and I stopped listening to his advice, and well… I’m not successful, and I think he’s angry about it.”
“He’s wrong,” I said, holding her gaze as my voice dropped. “You know he’s wrong.”
