My face goes hot, and I bite my lip. “You’re very smooth. And very kind.”
He doesn’t even blink. “Just stating the obvious. You’re stunning, Becca. No matter what you wear.”
Maybe it’s the low rumble of his voice or how close we’re standing to each other in his narrow hallway, but something in the air between us changes. It’s thick and hot and very, very un-friend-like. Gage licks his lips, and for a second I think I’m going to faint. But then he spins around and starts walking into his apartment.
“I’ll pop this open,” he says.
I mutter a “sounds good” and follow him into his apartment. The kitchen and living room are an open space, with a granite island and bar stools serving as the unofficial barrier.
“I love your place,” I say as I gaze around and take in the exposed brick walls and massive floor-to-ceiling window on the far side. “It’s so hip.”
“Is it?” Gage chuckles as he pops off the cork.
“Definitely.” I plop on one of the wooden barstools at the island. “This is exactly how I’d picture the apartment of a cool, early-thirties guy with better-than-average taste in décor.”
His chuckle turns into a full-on laugh. He grabs two wine glasses from the floating shelf behind him and pours the wine. “Do I get points deducted if I tell you that my sister and my cousin helped me decorate it and picked out all the furniture?”
I laugh and shake my head. “Nope. That means you’re smartandresourceful.”
He hands me a glass and raises his. “Cheers to that.”
We clink our glasses and take sips of the wine. My gaze lands on Gage’s throat as he swallows, mesmerized by how his Adam’s apple bobs with the movement. I blink, and the visual of me wrapping my fingers around his neck appears. I bet he’d feel hot and thick and hard…
God, Becca. Stop objectifying your friend, will you?
I gulp more wine and try not to think about how sexy the contrast would be between my pale fingers and his tan, thick neck…
“I’m not a wine expert,” I say quickly. “So, um, sorry if it’s not very good. The guy at the shop said it was from a really good vineyard though.”
Gage makes an “mmm” sound as he takes another long sip. “It’s delicious. This Malbec will go great with dinner.”
He winks at me before spinning around and checking the metal pot simmering on his stove. As he moves, his back and shoulder muscles bulge under his cotton T-shirt.
“It smells amazing, by the way.” I inhale the aroma of roasting meat and vegetables. My mouth waters.
Just focus on the food and not the fact that you’re aching to devour Gage.
“I made a rack of lamb with roasted potatoes and rosemary shallot gravy, and homemade sourdough bread.”
“Oh my god,” I say into my glass. “You’re spoiling me. That’s way fancier than my normal sheet pan dinners I throw together.”
He spins around. “Nothing wrong with a sheet pan dinner.”
When he bends down to open the oven, my eyes go wide. Oh my good god, his ass is beautiful. My brain short-circuits wondering how exactly he got such a perfect backside. Does he do a lot of squats? It’s clear he lifts weights given how cut he is, so that’s probably part of—
I press my eyes shut, halting my inner thoughts.Stop.
I spin around on my stool and fan myself, thankful that Gage’s back is to me. I focus on the first thing I see.
“Wow, what a cool palm tree!” I blurt and immediately regret it. I sound like such a loser.
Gage spins around, brow furrowed in confusion until I point out the framed photo on the wall of him standing with a guy and a woman around his age—his siblings, I’m assuming. They’re decked out in swimsuits on a beach, posing next to a massive palm tree.
“Oh, that.” He leans against the kitchen island. “That’s my brother and sister and me in Boracay in the Philippines a few years ago. We were visiting our mom’s family.”
I stand up, glass of wine in hand, and walk over to get a better look. Gage’s sister and brother are as gorgeous as he is. “You and your siblings got all the ridiculously good-looking genes.”
Gage booms out a laugh before refilling his wine glass and joining me. “I’ll be sure to relay the compliment. It’ll make their egos even bigger.”
