I hate that it takes my breath away.
“Hey, tulip! You’re just in time. Grab some pitas from the serving platter with my tzatziki. I got my mom’spastitsioreheating for us. Working on a salad, too.” He waves the blade around as I stand stunned at his entire display. “But don’t worry. If you’re a vegetarian, I have lentil soup on the stove. But that may take a while. I couldn’t do the canned stuff. Only the best for you. So I’m making it from scratch.”
I freeze. Not at the food.
At him.
Rocked inside at how competent and in his element he seems. And that he did this…for me?
I shake my head and blink a few times. “I-I’m not vegetarian,” I whisper, remembering I barely ate at our reception.
“Great! Here you go.” He hands me a bowl to fill up with salad fixings and the sauce.
My nose lingers over the pot of lentils, inhaling a comforting breath. It not only warms my face, but my whole body heats. Mainly by the fact that the man behind me took the time and care to do all of this. “How long does the soup cook for?”
As soon as I ask, I spy the package of lentils on the counter and answer my own question.
“Uh, like an hour,” Apollo says, chopping away at the salad.
“This says half an hour.”
He turns to look at the bag I’m holding and nods rapidly. “Yeah. I just like to let them simmer longer. Better flavor. Do me a favor? Tell me how long the clock says.”
It appears he knows what he’s doing, and I have to admit, I’m truly impressed.
“Just fifteen minutes. Is that for both the Past-the-whatever in the oven and soup?”
“Yeah. That’s why I made the appetizers. In case you couldn’t wait.”
I slide onto a bar stool, one that feels uncomfortably new. But at least it’s the right height.
I can’t help the moan that escapes as I taste my first bite of his pita with tzatziki. “Nice… You must have spent all day fixing this place up.”
He glances around and brings his bowl over to sit beside me. “It still needs stuff. I forgot a shower curtain but can pick one up tomorrow.”
Guilt coils tight in my chest, sharp and inescapable. This man? Yeah. He and his brothers did all this.
For us.
While I stayed up at the library, sulking and trying to study. Even after I got freaked out by those lines someone left me, I went to the medical library instead of coming here.
I place my hand on his thigh, and he catches the movement. “We can go after dinner tonight, if you’d like. I can help pick out things.”
His grin widens as he turns his face toward me, easy and unguarded. Dimples press into his cheeks—softening him ina way that feels…wrong.Dangerousto me. Something in my body reacts. Low and immediate.
No. I don’t think Apollo Griffin smiles like this for just anyone. And for a second, I hate how much it feels like I earned it. Because I might need to see it again.
He moves around the kitchen like he belongs there and serves me hot Greek lasagna with soup. At least it looks like lasagna, but tastes even better.
“Holy shit, this is amazing!” I’m shoveling in bites, unable to even express how phenomenal the dishes are.
“Yeah, I can make it better. But didn’t have time to prepare the dough.” He clears his throat and swallows another bite. “I will, though. Soon.” As if he’s copying me, his hand lands on my thigh, and I relax into his side. Belly full and insides warm.
I finish up what’s on my plate and look longingly at the leftovers but decide against a second helping. Elbowing his side gently, I urge, “Hurry up! Let’s get to the store before they close!”
I dash toward the bedroom to deposit my bags, but stop when I turn on the light.
“We’re not usingthatbedding,” I say, finger pointing at the stiff brown fabric that covers the bed with two flat pillows on top.
