“I’m guessing you and Kane must have hit it off right away, which is why they kept you.”
I flip the sandwiches and laugh. “We were oil and water, babe.”
Her mouth drops open. “Really?”
“But we worked it out. I never expected to stay as long as I did.” I finish grilling the sandwiches and Jules sets two plates on the counter. I slide the sandwiches onto them, she cuts them in half and carries them to the table.
“How come they kept you so long?” she asks as she takes a bite of the cheesy goodness.
“They discovered I was good at hockey.”
She stops chewing, and her eyes narrow. It’s easy to tell her mind is racing from the way her eyes are blinking.
“Really?”
“Of course,” I say and can’t for the life of me understand the skepticism in her eyes. I was good at hockey, I got to stay. It’s really just as simple as that. I exhale a slow breath, and honest to God, it felt good to share that with her, but now I want to talk about something else, want to know more about her. I reach for my sandwich and take a big bite. “This is good,” I say and wash it down with her poisonous elixir known as kombucha, which isn’t half bad, really.
“Really good,” she agrees.
“Tell me something about you,” I say.
“Not much to tell. This is my home. I like plants and restoring things. Later, I’ll take you into the garage.”
I go still. “Wait, that’s not where you harvest organs is it? Dammit, I knew it.”
She laughs out loud as I glance at her fridge.
“What, you think I keep organs in my fridge?” she asks, loving the easy comradery between us, not to mention the smile she always gifts me when I tease her.
“Actually, I was wondering if you had any mustard.”
“Eww, you can’t be serious.”
“Unfortunately, I am.”
“Ketchup I can understand, but mustard?”
“Don’t diss the mustard.” I shake my head. “I’m starting to rethink this friendship, Jules.”
“Yeah, me too.” She stands and pulls a bottle from the fridge. I take it, pour a generous amount on to my plate and dip my sandwich in before taking another big bite.
“Yuck. That’s disgusting.”
“Try it.” I dip it again, and hold it out for her to taste.
“No thanks.”
“Do it,” I say.
“Rider—”
“Fine.” She reluctantly bites into it, and surprise resisters in her eyes. “Okay, that is good.”
“You have a little…” I lean in to her, wipe my finger over the corner of her lip and bring it to my mouth. I slide it in and taste her on my tongue.
“Rider,” she says, her voice breathless.
“Yeah?” My dick swells in my pants. Christ, you’d think I’d be sated after burying myself balls-deep earlier, but no. I want more.