He snagged a few fries and popped them in his mouth. He’d eaten his hamburger first like she did. “I think you don’t want to get hurt,” he said.
“Who does?” she asked.
“That’s true.”
“Can I ask why you ate the burger before the chicken?” she asked.
“This is stupid, but it’s more about the fact I’ve had the burger before and not the sauce on the chicken. If I love it I’ll be disappointed to follow it up with the burger even though the burger is great too. This way it’s the last thing I ate and I was looking forward to it.”
She shook her head. “How can we be so much alike? I thought the same thing.”
“And you were afraid to say it?” he asked, grinning. He picked up half of his chicken and took a bite. “Yep. Worth the wait.”
She took the last bite of her burger fast, washed it down with some water that she’d brought over for both of them. Not bottled water. Not from the tap either. She had a filtered jug of it and poured them each a glass.
She’d found it funny that Ivan said he did the same and the only reason he had a few bottles of it in the house on New Year’s Eve was because he bought them for her.
It was both ironic and sweet but told him not to do it again. It was a waste to the environment on top of his wallet. Water from the tap and filters was good enough.
She picked up her half of the chicken sandwich and bit in, then groaned. “Your cousins have the magic touch. They really do.”
He laughed at her. “Maybe you’ll think that of me too.”
“I’m hoping so after dinner,” she said. There, that put it out in the open.
His grin was still in place and he winked at her.
They continued to eat their dinner. She was eating faster; he’d seemed to slow down so that they were at the same pace.
With both halves of her sandwiches gone and just a few fries, she was stuffed. No way she was eating more and feeling sick.
He pushed back from his plate too though there were a lot of fries left. “You can keep eating if you want. I’m full though. I normally only eat a sandwich and a few fries anyway. Or half of each and save the rest.”
“Let’s get cleaned up and we can go relax. Talk about our day if you want.”
Her shoulders dropped. “Oh.”
They were in the kitchen and she was throwing out the containers when he had her pinned against the counter. “Or we can go into your room. It’s your choice. Your call. You tell me exactly what you want.”
“Phew,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if for some reason you didn’t want to.”
“Oh, I want to. But again, it’s your call.”
“Then we can go to my room.”
She reached for his hand and pulled him through the doorway off the kitchen and it was her bedroom as he expected.
“It’s pretty spacious in here,” he said.
“It is. Makes me not feel like my apartment is that small and it’s the perfect size for me.”
“No more talk about size,” he said. “That’s not good for a man’s ego.”
She laughed. Glad that he found a way to relax her.
“I don’t think I’ll be complaining,” she said, her hands going for the bottom of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Oh my. I had no idea.”
“Good or bad?” he asked.
