Back in the kitchen, I pour him a glass of water and set it on the island for whenever he arrives. I get the pre-prepped dinner and pour it into the pot, ready for my easy task of stirring occasionally for the next ten minutes. Bread for a side and some strawberries from the market would go great with a red blend.
Our last bottle of hotel wine is a fingertip’s distance out of my reach in the upper cabinet. With a jump, I catch it, managing not to break the glasses at the same time.
“Careful!” Liem appears behind me, setting his laptop on theisland to come help me bypass my clumsiness.
“I got it. Hydrate, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, lifting the glass to his beautiful lips.
I don’t think he knows he looks good. Truly, I don’t. Keisha put it in my head that I’ve set myself up for the most convenient rebound sex possible, and now I can’t keep myself from flirty remarks slipping out of my lips like drool. He is my friend, and this is extremely temporary, but she has a point.
He’s here, I’m here, he’s delicious, I keep it tight. All that’s stopping us is his lack of interest, and I’m starting to run out of reasons to explain why.
I’m not too old for him, I’m not ugly, and he’s attracted to women. Did I ruin it by having the audacity to menstruate in front of him?Did I accidentally friend-zone him? Is he still not over Natalie?My thoughts ramble. He still needs time to heal, and if having a wildly convenient and hot fuckfest with the woman bumming it on his company’s dime isn’t enough for him, then—
“What smells so good?” Liem says from a step behind me, making me flinch. “Are you baking something too?”
“No, but the bread is fresh.”
“It’s . . . sweet. Vanilla, maybe? Honey?”
He steps closer, his chest barely grazing my back, nose brushing against my neck when he leans his head in. Tingles spread beneath every area he almost touches, like my skin is reaching to pull him closer. Then he smells me.
Not a creepy sniff or unwanted intrusion into my personal space. He breathes me in, slow and appreciative like he’s smelling a flower. “It’s you.”
Why is my mouth dry?
“Is it perfume? A lotion or something?”
I have a vanilla-scented body oil, but I haven’t used it in a fewdays. It’s not pertinent to admit I haven’t showered since yesterday either. “No. Maybe it’s my conditioner?”
Again, he breathes me in. Without a touch, I explode with microscopic fireworks.Why is my body reacting this way?Am I so touch-starved thatalmosttouching is enough to get me off?
“It’s not that. It’s . . .you.” He steps away, leaning back against the edge of the countertop. “Sorry if that was weird. I have a thing with smells.”
“A thing?”
“Not like a kink thing. It’s a cooking thing, I think.” He catches himself. “I’m saying you smell nice but being extraordinarily awkward about it.”
I’m still conflicted over why I find that sexy.
“You smell like marshmallows,” he says. “And the soup needs more basil.”
I gasp at his audacity while he snickers and walks away. Ugh, why must he be this way? His departure gives me space to breathe less hornily.That can’t be a word.
It’s been nearly three months since someone touched me, though now, I wish it had been longer. David was overlapping me and the side chick for who knows how long—likely only fessing up to it because he knew the pregnancy news would come out soon. I want to erase his last claim on me, be free of him completely, but I also want to get hammered into a mattress like a bent nail. And Liem keeps showing up, making me tingly in all the right places.
A moment before I burn it, I take the soup from the heat and pour it into our bowls, sliding one to him.
“Thank you.” When he smiles at me, my body stirs again.
You could just ask him. You’ve said worse shit to him before. What’s so different about, “Hey, bestie, wanna get naked with me?”
“I miss sex,” I blurt out.That’s one way to do it.
Liem’s eyes shift to me. One of these days, he’ll get used to my tactlessness. “Oh?”
“Sorry. Random. But it’s true.” I shift my weight, squeezing
