“Nothing gross about it. You’re brushing your teeth.” He shrugs.
I turn around to face him fully.
“Feel at least a little better from that?” he asks.
I inhale and exhale slowly, trying to see if the nausea rips through me again at the mention of it. “I think…I’m okay.”
He nods. “Let’s try to get some food in your system.”
He walks out of the bathroom, and I follow him into the kitchen space. He goes directly for the stove, where he already had everything thrown into a giant boiling pot. He must have had everything pre-cut and ready to throw on the stove before he came here, or he’s just really that good at making soup.
The smell hits my senses, and I expect to feel sick, but I don’t.
I feel everythingbutsick with Griffin here taking care of it.
I don’t know what his intentions are. Maybe he’s just being a friendly neighbor.
My heart can’t seem to stop believing that this could be leading to something more, though.
I’ve learned I really enjoy his company.
From him helping me with my deck, to having dinner at his house, and the out of this world orgasm he gave me at the bar. Each instance has been different, but good. Not to mention the way he listens to me and understands what I want, the way he makes me laugh even when he can’t laugh himself, and the way he looks at me—all these things are leading my heart to feel something for this man standing in my kitchen.
“Thank you,” I tell him, taking a place next to him at the stove.
He looks at me while he stirs the pot but remains silent as he assesses my features. I can feel the energy around him and the way the muscles in his jaw tense as if he’s just as nervous to get too close. His upper body leans in. Is he finally going to kiss me? I’ve been wanting to kiss him since the moment he played doctor on my knee. But I pull back, turning my head and walking away. “I should probably get changed.”
And like a coward, I head up to my room to get changed and freshen up. I pace my room back and forth, wondering why the hell I just did that when Iwantthis man to kiss me.
Am I scared of kissing someone other than my ex-husband?
I shouldn’t fucking be.
He’s in my past.
This is my home now.
For the first time since moving here, I don’t feel guilt for thinking about another man.
I stop pacing and shuffle through my closet. I’m not looking to get dressed up, but I know I need to just change my sweatpants and T-shirt for a cleaner one so I can stand in the same room as him and not smell like sickness.If that even has a smell.Then I run a brush through my hair before making my way downstairs again.
Once I make it to the last two steps, my body slows, and I watch Griffin setting two placemats with spoons and bowls on my kitchen island for both of us to eat.
He steps back, eying the setup to make sure it’s good enough.
I clear my throat while taking the last two steps. His head snaps around, facing me.
“I had to change. I think I smelled like too much sickness,” I say, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks. “I really need a shower, but Ineedfood more.”
He gestures to the kitchen counter. “Have a seat. The soup is ready for you,” he says. Then grabs each bowl and scoops the soup into them.
“Seriously, thank you. For all of this,” I tell him honestly, making my way to the small stool. “You truly didn’t have to do this. I feel so bad because whatever this sickness is, it’s fierce. And gross. And I don’t want you to get it.”
“I won’t,” he assures me. “I have the immune system of a moose.”
I cross my arms over my chest, smiling for the first time all day. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“It made you smile.”
