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She rises onto her toes to kiss me, and I wrap an arm around her waist, keeping her close for another second before letting her go.
The smell of garlic hits me as soon as I step inside, reminding me how fucking hungry I am. Should've eaten that protein bar after practice.
“How was practice?” she asks, closing the door behind me.
“Brutal. I think Coach wanted to make sure we actually need the week off.”
I follow her toward the kitchen, where Pickles comes trotting over to greet me, his nails clicking against the floor.
“Hey, buddy.” I crouch down and scratch him behind the ears. “You been keeping Peachy company?”
Quinn's started taking Pickles over to her place whenever she's working from home. She says she likes having him around, and it means he doesn't have to spend the whole day alone at my place while I'm at practice. Judging by how comfortable he's gotten here, the little traitor wouldn't mind moving in permanently.
“I took him for a walk during my lunch break,” she says. “And again before I started dinner.”
“Look at you, getting the full VIP treatment.” I give Pickles one last scratch before straightening up. “Don't get too used to it, buddy. I'm not taking you for three walks a day.”
Quinn laughs as she heads back to the stove. Her phone is propped against the coffee maker, displaying a recipe she's apparently following.
I glance at the ingredients spread across the counter.
“What are we making?”
“I'm making dinner. You're staying out of my way.”
“Damn. Not even a hello, thanks for coming over, handsome?”
“I kissed you at the door.”
“Yeah, but I think I deserve another one.”
She rolls her eyes, but she's smiling when I step up behind her and slip my arms around her waist.
“Why don't you find us a movie? Dinner should be ready in a few minutes.”
I press a kiss to the side of her neck and take another appreciative sniff. “Smells fucking amazing.”
“I hope you like it. I'm trying a new recipe.”
She sounds a little nervous, which is ridiculous because everything she's cooked for me so far has been great. But even if this turns out to be the worst thing I've ever eaten, I'm finishing my plate.
“Can't wait.” I give her waist a squeeze before letting go. “We eating on the couch?”
“Yep.”
“I'll get everything ready.”
I head into the living room and grab the two trays she keeps for eating in front of the TV. Once I've set them up, I pick up the remote and start looking through the movies.
From the kitchen, I hear Quinn singing along to whatever she's got playing on her phone.
I glance over my shoulder.
She's standing barefoot at the stove, stirring something in a pan and singing just a little off-key. Every now and then, she checks the recipe on her phone before going back to whatever she's doing.
I put the remote down and lean against the back of the couch, watching her.
I fucking love seeing her like this.
