Carly’s gaze bounces between us.
“Every meal is delivered to your set preferences?” I peek at the menu on the iPad, and it’s stuff I can’t even pronounce. It’s all healthy, and I’m certain it’s ridiculously expensive and probably tastes like shit.
“I have a particular diet, and this helps with my schedule.” He tips the tablet toward me. “You can pick whatever you want.”
I stare at him.Is he serious?
By the look on his face, he is. “You. . .never cook?”
His long fingers scratch the dark stubble covering his jaw. “I don’t really have time to cook, at least not the way I eat.”
I stare again, not giving a single crap if I’m being weird. I don’t eat a lot of junk food. My body is often my defense, and like any weapon, it only works as well as it’s been maintained. But to never make your own food. What if you want chicken instead of steak, or you’ve had a shit day and need a pan full of mac and cheese?
“Umm. . .I’ll just order groceries and pick them up. Your kitchen is probably longing for a workout.”
Cole’s eyes wander over my face, making me feel a tad self-conscious.I almost tell him to knock it off, but he slides the iPad across the table.
“You know what? You can cancel this month. You’re paid through the year, so save these selections, and I’ll be in touch about next month.” His eyes bounce to mine again.
Carly holds the iPad, her thick eyebrows tipped inward like she, too, isn’t quite sure what’s happening here.
Cole taps the table. “Anything else you need from me?”
Carly shifts in her seat. “Uh. . .no.” She grabs her purse, drops her folders inside, then pauses. “Are you sure you’ll be able to get the total, balanced nutrition necessary?” Her cheeks turn just the tiniest bit pink, and she tries to force a smile.
“I think we can manage,” Cole says confidently, and I’m glad one of us is because I have no idea what is happening.
He grabs his phone and his empty cup, signaling we’re done here.
We stand, and Cole thanks Carly as she reminds him she’ll be available if needed.
I hit the fresh air first, checking up and down the street. We walk to the car with Cole tucked between me and the buildings.
“See, she’s innocent,” Cole says, his long legs matching my stride.
“Maybe. I need a background check first.”
He huffs a laugh. “Really? I just gave her the month off.”
At the car, he waits for me to inspect it before climbing in.
“So, who’s cooking dinner first?” he asks, pulling away from the curb.
I check the mirrors. “Cooking for you is not part of my job description. You should’ve kept up with your personally prepared fancy-ass meals.”
“Fine. I’ll cook first, but we have to set some ground rules. I only eat whole foods, and I hate pork and anything with mushrooms.”
“Clean eating and picky. You’re sounding a bit high-maintenance, Matthews.”
He ignores my sarcasm. “Are you allergic to anything?”
I side-eye him. He’s serious about this cooking thing. “Just to sleeping across the hall from strange men.”
Cole stops at a red light; those damn almost purple-blue eyes linger on me. I meant it as a joke, but his face tells me he sees straight through to the truth.
My stomach tucks itself in tightly.
He focuses back on the road. “Then it’s a good thing after the game tomorrow, you and I will be a whole lot more than strangers.”
