“Thanks, Ange,” he enthused, reminding her of teenage Sam.As he brushed past her, his spicy-woodsy smell drifted over her.The intoxicating scent was all adult-male Sam, and the notion hit her that she might soon be navigating her own perilous asteroid field.She flipped the lock and followed his fragrance into the living room.He flopped onto the edge of her small couch, his long legs spread so wide he practically filled the entire thing.
“Make yourself at home,” she muttered.“I’m having wine.Want some?”
His eyes were already glued to the screen.“Sure.”
She returned with the bottle and a wineglass, which she filled before topping off her own.“Um, do you think you could scoot over and make room for me?”
“Sorry.Yeah.”
He moved little more than a few inches, and she nestled into the side of the couch as far from him as she could, hyperaware she wore nothing under the robe.It was one of those satin-on-the-outside, terry-on-the-inside things they carried in spas, and it hung heavy and cozy on her frame all the way to the floor—like a warm blanket against her skin.It was her go-to on nights like this, and she debated swapping it for something with more than a tie holding it together.Except the baggy garment hid more than leggings and a tee would.If she didn’t wiggle around, it would stay closed and reveal nothing.Yeah, that would work.
He took a sip of wine, seeming to barely register that he did it.“Do youstillhave a crush on Han?”
“Are you asking me or the TV?”
He slid her a confused look.“That makes no sense.Why would I ask the TV if it’s crushing on a character in a movie?”
“So youwerelistening.”
“Of course I was,” he grunted.“Can you back it up?I missed what they were saying.”
“You can’t just recite it from memory?”she quipped.
“Been a while.”
She obliged him, and soon her attention, like his, locked on to the screen.They both recited the dialogue verbatim, quietly enough to hear the actors’ delivery.
Fifteen minutes later, she was still riveted, barely registering that Sam was refilling his wineglass and holding up the bottle to her without actually looking at her or her glass.“More?”
“No, I’m good.”The imagined taste of chocolate suddenly filled her mouth, and she rose to fetch some brownies from the kitchen.
Sam sipped his wine.“Where are you going?”Again, he did this without looking at her, and it was so typical of him she nearly burst out with a laugh.Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledged that he was settled in for the duration of the movie, and strangely enough, she didn’t mind.
“I’m on a chocolate run.”
“Great idea.Want me to pause it?”
She glanced at the screen.This bit was too exciting to miss.“Yes, please.I’ll be right back.”
In the kitchen, she hunted for the brownies but came up empty.After stress-baking, she’d had a lot of goodies left, despite giving a bunch away.As she often did when she had a surplus, she’d hidden them.Trouble was, she didn’t always remember where.
Oh, now I remember!
She grabbed a step stool, scaled it, and opened an upper cabinet.She felt Sam behind her before she heard him rumble, “What are you doing?”
“Trying to find a batch of brownies I baked and hid the other night.I gave some to my co-workers and one of my patients, but I stashed the rest somewhere safe so I wouldn’t eat them all.So safe I can’t find them now.”
“What patient?”he demanded.
She turned her head to peer down at him.“How is that any of your business?”
He smoothed the strands at the back of his head.“Just, uh, curious.I mean, was he an athlete, like me?”
She couldn’t hold back a smirk.“Exactly like you, onlywaymore handsome and humble.”In truth, she’d given them to a sweet grandpa recovering from knee replacement surgery.
“You think I’m handsome?”Sam practically crowed.
Holding back a laugh, she rolled her eyes and turned back to grope around in the cabinet.
