“Styx,” she moans.
“I mean it, Kitty Kat. I want to be that person for you.”
“W-what about—”
In a rush, I shift my hand and press two fingers to her lips, cutting off her words. “We’re not going there tonight, Kat. We’re just going to enjoy ourselves. Okay?”
She nods, her agreement shining bright in her eyes.
“So what’s next, Casanova?” she asks when I finally let my fingers drop.
Leaning forward as if I’m going to kiss her, I dart to the side at the last minute, much to her frustration, and whisper in her ear, “I’m going to cook you dinner and you’re going to relax, and let me look after you.”
“Y-you are going to cook?” she forces out through shuddering breaths.
“What are you implying, Kitty Kat?” I ask, taking a huge step back from her, hating that I lose her heat but knowing it’s the right thing to do.
I’m not taking this further until I know she believes me, that she understands just how much I mean every word I say to her, until she’s begging because she can’t think about anything else—anyone else—but me.
Leaving her standing in the middle of the room, I shoot over my shoulder. “Make yourself at home and watch a master at work.”
19
KAT
“Fuck,” Styx grunts from the kitchen. His house has an open floor plan, so while I’ve been sifting through his collection of old records, I’ve been able to keep one eye on him at work as he cooks me dinner.
It feels oddly right being here, in his space. A girl could get used to it and I can’t deny, the effort he’s gone to tonight has softened something inside me.
He’s been the perfect gentleman, annoyingly so. As we walked around the park, I was waiting for him to pull me behind a tree and kiss me senseless, but it never came. We held hands, ate ice cream, and talked about everything and nothing.
Of course, we’d gone to the park outside of Red Ridge, where we’d been unlikely to see anyone we knew, but I let that little fact slide because he was trying.
Styx was trying and it was more than I could have hoped for.
“Everything okay in there,” I call, loading another record onto the player.
“Uh, yeah… everything is… shit, fuck.”
Stifling a chuckle, I head over to him to assess the damage. “What is that?” I gawk at the dish of charred remains.
“It was chicken parm but something went wrong.”
“Something? It looks like you nuked it.”
The cutest blush smatters his cheeks. “I may have slightly exaggerated when I called myself the master.”
“You think?” Laughter peals out of me. “Well, we can’t eat that. What else do you have?”
“Uh, I only got the stuff I needed.”
“I’m sure we can rustle up something.” I open his refrigerator and peek inside. “What the hell do you eat?”
“I live on cereal or takeout.”
“Styx!”
He winds his arms around my waist and drops his chin on my shoulder, nuzzling me. “I could always eat you.”