Page 24 of The Attraction
I message his phone to let him know I’m home and then get into the shower myself, because to be honest, I just need a minute to wash away the day I’ve had.
Getting dressed in some semi-casual pants and a shirt, I check my phone, and there is a message from Forrest.
Forrest: Sorry, I was hoping I would have been out of the shower before you got here. Thanks for letting me know. Dinner is ready whenever you are, but don’t rush. Take your time, and I have a glass of red waiting for you.
“Who the fuck is this man?” I mutter, looking down at the sweet message. Oh, this guy is going to do my head in, I can just tell.
Checking myself in the mirror for probably the twentieth time, I think to hell with it. If I’m going to be living here, he is going to see me just as I am. Opening the door, I pad down the hallway on the soft gray carpet in my bare feet. One toe is a little purple from this morning’s chopping board incident, but at least the pain settled as the day went on.
Getting to the end of the hall, I feel nervous, but instead of walking out unsure, I do what I always do and take a deep breath, pull the shoulders back, and go out swinging.
“Hey, smells great in here. Did you get Flynn to cook us some dinner?” I ask, which has him looking up, a little offended.
“I can cook, you already know this.” Forrest’s comment reminds me about the meal he handed me when he turned up on my doorstop, which I never really acknowledged, so now is probably a good time to fix that.
“Oh yeah, thank you for that. It was great.” Pulling out the stool at the kitchen counter, I watch him move around the kitchen. “So, what have you cooked us, oh great chef Forrest?” Why am I being so patronizing to him? It’s the opposite of what I wanted to try to do tonight, but my nerves are bringing my default personality out, and it’s not the best.
“I made lasagna with a garden salad and homemade garlic bread. Then if you are still hungry, I have a cheesecake I picked up on the way home, if that is something you like.”
“Wow, you can cook better than I can. I have the basic dishes but usually grab takeaway or just have a shake for dinner if I have eaten out during the day.” Saying it out loud has me thinking how bad that probably is for me, but when you live on your own, it’s easy to get lazy and is such an effort to cook for one.
“Well, that stops now. Protein shakes are for before or after a workout, not a fucking meal. I will feed you.” There is no anger in his voice but just determination for me to understand that his job is to take care of me.
“If it smells like this and tastes as good as I think this will, then you have yourself a deal,” I answer, trying to keep up my positive remarks.
It brings the first true smile I have seen on Forrest since I arrived in his home last night.
Just nodding at me, he picks up both the plates and, looking to me, asks, “Where do you want to sit, here or at the table? I’m easy either way.”
I’m so thankful that this is going to be a relaxed dinner that I almost sigh in relief. “Whatever is easiest for you.” Looking over my shoulder, I notice the table set. “You have already set the table, so let’s move there.” Both of us move, and before I get to the table, he pulls a chair out for me to sit.
“Thanks.” Sitting down, my stomach rumbles again, to which Forrest smirks at me.
“Let’s eat first and then we can talk. It sounds like you are hungry, and to be honest, I am too. Today was hectic, and lunch was a quick snack that wasn’t enough,” Forrest says as he cuts his first mouthful of lasagna and holds it off his plate on his fork, but he waits for me to take a bite first.
“Mmmmm,” I murmur as I finish the first mouthful. “Oh my God, this is like an orgasm in the mouth.” As the words pass my lips, I know I should have kept that to myself.
“Noted.” He winks at me and takes his first mouthful.
Good one, Harper. Surely you can be classier than this. Keeping my head down and just eating without saying a word, I can feel Forrest watching me.
Lifting my head, he is not ashamed of being caught out, and I feel like the roles have reversed a bit.
Is he really flirting with me or is it just my imagination?
It’s been a weird day, so I doubt he is. I should just ignore it.
“That was amazing, Forrest, thank you,” I say, placing my knife and fork on my plate with the leftover food I can’t possibly fit in.
“Yeah, orgasmic, I heard.” He coughs into his fist as he throws my comment back at me.
“Don’t be an ass.” I push my plate away from me and lean back into the chair with the glass of red wine. From the first sip, I could tell it was exactly what I needed to calm my nerves.
“Hey, I wasn’t the one who said it.” Taking a sip of his wine, he then looks at me and we both start laughing, breaking the awkward silence and atmosphere between us.
“Let’s move to the couch to talk. You get comfortable, I’ll clear the dishes.” Standing, he reaches for my plate, but I grab it before he can.
“Not a chance. We clean up together, I’m not useless.” He goes to reply but instead just nods, and we both continue clearing the table and loading the dishwasher.
