After exhaling a long breath, she nods. “You’re right.”
“I’ve invited Blake over for dinner.” My attempt at casual comes out in a rushed mumble. I clear my throat. “He should be here soon.”
“Ah, so that’s what all this cooking is about. You’re trying to impress your boyfriend.”
Her teasing is payback, and my face heats. I go back to my food prep, hiding my immature reaction. “Yes and no.”
“What’re you making?”
“Stir fry.”
She hangs out with me while I chop, and we talk about school, laughing together as she shares her life with me. My chest is tight with emotion, evidence that things are looking up.
When the slicing is done, I place the wok over the burner and mix the sauce. A knock sounds at the door.
“I’ll get it,” Axelle chirps and skips off to let Blake in.
“Hey, kiddo.” His deep voice blasts a shiver along my skin. He tousles Axelle’s hair as he passes her and steps into the kitchen. His heated stare warms me in an instant. “Mouse.”
“Hey.” I close the space between us to give him a hug.
He wraps his strong arms around my waist, pulling me to my toes. “What’s going on in here? It looks amazing.”
Smiling, I pull back, but keep my hands locked behind his neck. “I’m making dinner.”
His expression goes soft in a way that I feel in the most sensitive places. “That right?”
“Yeah.” As close as he is, I notice shadows beneath his eyes that weren’t there earlier. I run my thumb across his cheek. “You okay?”
He drops his gaze. “I’m great.”
Why don’t I believe him?
“Did something happen with Taylor after I left?”
“No. I’m fine, really.” He lifts his chin and smiles. “Yo, Axelle?”
She turns toward us, a sly grin on her lips. “Yeah?”
“You cool with me dating your mom?” His eyes are still locked on mine.
She giggles. “Yeah, I’m cool.”
“Fantastic.” He leans in and drops a feather-light kiss on my lips. “Stoked that you cooked for me, sweetheart.” One more kiss to my forehead and he backs away. “I’m starved.”
My legs are wobbly, like they always are after Blake gets close and whispers sweetly. He keeps his hands at my waist until I’m able to stay upright, and then heads deeper into the small kitchen.
The three of us hang out together while I sauté the chicken and put the finishing touches on the food. It isn’t long before we’re huddled around the table, eating and laughing.
“Your boy Killian’s a quick learner. Taught him a complicated leg lock today. He picked it up, no problem,” Blake says to Axelle before forking a bite into his mouth.
“He’s not my boy.” She ducks her head and pushes her food around the plate.
Blake’s gaze travels from me to Axelle and back. He knows. I can see it in his eyes. I shove a bite full of chicken and broccoli in my mouth to avoid giving her away.
“Not your boy…” His words trail off as he waits for Axelle’s reaction.
Her food is now the most interesting thing in the room, and she looks at it intently.
“Huh.” He drops his fork and leans back in his chair. “What’s up with you and Killer?”
This gets her attention. Her head flies back, and her eyes are wide. “What? Nothing… er… what?”
A slow and very sexy smile crawls across his face. “Damn.”
“Axelle and Killian are friends, Blake.” I shove another full bite of food into my mouth. At least the incessant chewing will keep me from smiling.
“Friends.” He narrows his eyes on Axelle. “That’s too bad. The kid’s crazy about you.”
Elbows on the table, she props her body forward. “Really?”
“I asked him how you two were getting along while we were working out the other day. He stuttered and dropped a dumbbell. Damn near broke his foot.”
I sit back and watch Axelle and Blake go back and forth. She’s so comfortable. In our old life, she’d never open up like this. Especially not with Stewart.
“I was thinking about asking him to the Valentine’s Day dance.”
Blake’s smile drops. “Valentine’s Day? When’s that?”
She laughs, her eyes darting between Blake and me. “February fourteenth.”
I busy myself by clearing the dishes from the table. I don’t want Blake to feel pressured by a stupid holiday that was invented by greeting card and chocolate manufacturers. We’re adults, after all. Valentine’s Day is for romantics and young lovers. A twinge of disappointment pinches my chest. Stewart’s idea of celebrating any holiday was to get what he wanted from me. I wonder what it would be like to celebrate feelings with someone I really like. To dress up, go out to a romantic dinner, feed each other bites of something expensive and chocolaty.
I’m jarred from my thoughts when firm hands grip my hips from behind and hot breath at my ear. “That was delicious, Mouse. She’s in her room.” His lips kiss a trail from my ear down my neck in an unhurried tease. “Fuck, you taste so good.”