“What’s this? An interrogation?” He folded the omelet and sprinkled spices on it.
“Just trying to get to know you and my competition.” She held her breath at the last word, trying to gauge his reaction.
He arched a brow at her. “If you want to know if I date a lot, why don’t you just ask?”
“I thought I just did. I want to get to know the guy I’m sleeping with, to see who I’m in contention with.”
He split the omelet and slid it onto two plates. He laid them down in front of her, pulled out the second stool, and sat down to eat. “I wouldn’t have gotten involved with you if I was seeing anyone else.”
She took a bite of her breakfast and moaned, onions, peppers, and spinach flavors teasing her taste buds. “Wow, that’s so good. Or maybe I’m just starving.”
They ate quietly until the plates were scraped clean. She got up and gathered the dishes. “You cooked, I clean.”
“That’s the easy part. You have a dishwasher.” He teased.
She shot him a look. “Fine, you can do the dishes, too. More coffee?” She poured him another mug from the carafe and herself another cup of tea from the kettle. Then she sat on the stool, tension rising inside her, muscles previously relaxed now tense and strained.
“So.” She bit her lower lip, not really sure what else to say.
He waggled his eyebrows. “Want to save some water and shower together?”
Saved from her stupid desire to talk through everything, her stiff shoulders relaxed. “Race you.”