“You cooked?” his deep voice sends tingles throughout my body. He moves into the room, stopping a few feet from me. I smile nervously but he doesn’t return it. My stomach churns, something really isn’t right.
“I wish I knew you’d planned this,” he runs his hand through his hair, looking away from me. “I sort of made plans to meet up with a friend. I’m just going to grab something on the way there.”
A sad feeling settles in my stomach and I struggle to keep my face neutral. He obviously changed his mind about dinner with me sometime between this morning and this moment. I should’ve known better I guess but I wanted to do something nice for him.
“I mean you can cook. Make something for yourself, use anything you need,” he shifts on his feet. His discomfort is obvious. “I just don’t want you to think you have to. I like a home cooked meal, like any other guy...next time, give me a heads up.”
I force a smile, praying I don’t look as devastated as I feel inside. Robotically I step back to the stove and remove the lid on the pot and dump the food into the white cream and begin tossing the noodles around. Shaking my head, I try to push aside my growing doubts. What was I thinking, surely he’d have friends he’d want to reconnect with, he’s been gone a long time.
Stupid, stupid, stupid Alice.
“Is that alfredo?” his voice closer now, startles me from my thoughts. He’s staring down at the pasta creation I’m finishing up. He licks his lips and I can’t help the surge of warmth that seeps into me. I asked Missy what his favorite meal was this morning and she stopped at the market so I could get the ingredients to make it. Even though the food had been purchased with his money, I wanted to do something to say thank you.
The key to a man’s heart is through his stomach, Missy chuckled as we left the market, bags in hand. Whatever that means.
Hudson’s eyes meet mine and he stares, looking at me like I’ve done something out of this world. The intensity of the moment builds between us like never before, making me look away, embarrassed by the way it makes me feel. Warm and electric.
Breaking the tension, I turn away and reach for a plate. Piling the creamy pasta onto it, I refuse to look at him again. Mostly for fear of what I might see in his blue eyes but also because I didn’t want to make him do something he didn’t want to.
To eat or not to eat, I tried not to care.
*****
Hudson
She made me dinner. She made me fucking dinner. No one’s ever made me dinner, well, besides my sister but she doesn’t count. I was with Crystal for five years and I can’t recall a single meal she prepared that didn’t involve the telephone. But this woman, this beautifully haunted woman is standing in my kitchen, piling the pasta onto her plate. The pasta I know she made specifically for me because it is my favorite.
She crosses the room, plate in hand and sets it down onto the small handmade table tucked into the breakfast nook. She pops the cap off a diet soda and sits. Placing her napkin in her lap, she forks the noodles, twisting them around until they’re manageable. Placing the fork at her lips, a small drip of cream touches them, causing my brain to malfunction as her tongues darts out and licks it up. I repress a groan and at the same time she sighs contently, slowly chewing the noodles.
My cock stirs in my pants causing a wave of panic to course through my body.
You choose NOW as the time to come awake! My mind screams and I shift uncomfortably, adjusting myself, hoping she didn’t see. Her eyes are on me when I look back at her. She smirks.
Yep, she saw your boner.
She lifts her fork again and digs into the food, her dark eyes no longer interested in me.
Fuck it!
I pick up a plate, scoop a generous portion of the pasta and stalk to the table. Sitting across from her, I refuse to look up and meet her gaze. I’m going to eat and then get the hell out of here. Looking at her is the last thing I need.
The first bite is pure heaven, closing my eyes I savor the creaminess on my tongue. Holy fuck, this girl can cook. Opening my eyes, I can’t help meeting hers. She’s sitting wide-eyed, a blush on her cheeks.
“Fuck yeah, sweetheart, you can cook,” I moan and her shoulders shake from a silent laugh. “You better teach Missy how to make this shit. The last time she made the attempt...ugh, I don’t even want to remember it.”
More silent giggles from her.
The rest of the meal is silent, which I don’t mind. The less I have to talk the easier it will be for me to walk out the door tonight and meet up with Holly. I need to figure out a way to put some space and distance between Alice and I, without looking like a jackass. I just can’t think of something that wouldn’t hurt her.