Page 34 of Burning For You

Maybe because she had been thinking of him more lately.

And had a touch of guilt over the way she’d treated him in the past.

He was her adopted brother’s best friend. There was no reason she couldn’t at least apologize.

“I didn’t really need two bedrooms,” he said. “But it’s what was available and I had to get into the city for my job.”

“Where were you before?”

He moved into his kitchen, grabbed two plates and brought them to the table where he’d dropped his dinner.

She’d done the same, pulled out her container holding her brisket sandwich and fries, then his two black plastic boxes.

“Living on the farm in the old cabin at the end of the road.”

“There is more than one house there?”

“Yep,” he said, setting the table. “What can I get you to drink? I’ve got bottles of unsweetened iced tea, energy drinks.”

“Those are horrible for you.”

“They are, but they are full of sugar and caffeine and with how much I work, I need the hit. I’m not a huge coffee drinker. I have one in the morning to wake up and that is it.”

She shivered. “Coffee is my love language. I need it as much as it needs me.” She crossed her fingers. “We jam like peanut butter and jelly.”

“Nothing tastes as good as peanut butter and jelly,” he said.

She laughed. “I ate enough of it as a kid. Tea is fine.”

He walked back to the kitchen, her eyes on his ass.

Look away, she scolded herself. You have no business even thinking that for the guy voted most likely to date every girl in the class.

He hadn’t dated her, so that wasn’t everyone.

Probably was damn close if she remembered correctly.

He placed two bottles on the table, pulled out a chair and sat, then opened his containers.

Half a rack of ribs with a slice of cornbread, the other mac and cheese.

“Yours looks good,” he said. “I’ve had it before.”

“I almost got ribs, but I had them at my home with the family meal. My mom knows my favorites.”

Which said a lot that the woman who, after only one year in her household, had already figured out the things she liked, hated, and brought her comfort when her biological parents couldn’t have been bothered. And if you’d asked them what any of those things were for their kids, the answer would be, “Who gives a fuck?”

“Mine too. I had dinner with all my siblings but Blaze the same day you had it with yours. I got my favorite that day.”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Asking for a story?” he asked, winking at her. “I can give you a list of a lot of my favorite things.”

There he was, being that flirt again.

Or was he just being him?

It was so hard to tell and she didn’t want to judge.