“What?” I asked.
“Could you please maybe take a step back and take it slow,” he spoke slowly as he spat out his words, his anger bubbling, waiting to explode.
“Hmm, how about a ‘mind your business and I don’t care what you think’ kind of an answer.” I stopped swiveling around and glared at him.
“I'm not fucking around, Kass. I seriously think you should stay away from him,” he said in a serious tone.
Our glaring match was interrupted by a quiet knock on Darios’ door. Darios turned and yanked the door opened.
“What?” he seethed.
It was Jason.
“I wouldn’t mind having my gym partner back.” He smiled. I could feel the tension in the tiny office rising as both my men glared at each other.
“Okay, there’s way too much testosterone for me in here.” I stood up from Darios’ office chair and tried to walk between them, neither one showed any sign of relenting.
“Well, seeing how well you two are getting along, I’ll be going. Hopefully, I can get a workout in before you two kiss and make up,” I said sarcastically.
I pushed passed Darios, but he wouldn’t have it. He put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me back in.
“I'm not done talking to my sister,” he said curtly as he pulled me back into his office and shut the door on Jason’s face.
“What are you doing?” I shouted.
“Look, Kass. I see the way he looks at you. I get that you guys feel for each other, but I seriously don’t think it’s the best decision you’ve made. I don’t want to see you get hurt,” he growled. Darios stood tall as he towered over me, pleading with me to understand him.
“Why? I don’t get it. It’s not like it’sit’s unhealthy. So what if I’m older? I like him. I like him a lot. He makes me feel good about myself,” I pleaded.
Darios stopped and watched me closely; I could see his nose flaring, as a low growl emitted from him.
“Fine, Kass! Do what you want,” he said dismissively.
“Fine! I will!” I yanked opened the door of his office. I had in mind to slam it shut, but I relented at the last minute and walked away.
Fuckim’ Darios, the asshole, he ruined my day. I knew I should have stayed home under the covers with my man wrapped up around me. Jason was leaning on the wall near the office, waiting for me to come out. He crooked his neck and gave me a half smile. He reached out with his hand, taking mine into his as he walked me back to the locker rooms.
“I guess our workout is shot to shit. Maybe we’ll do what you want and burn off some calories.” He smiled gently.
“Okay,” I murmured, lost in my thoughts.
“Come on, go get dressed. I’ll cook you dinner and we’ll hang out the rest of the day.” He winked. I nodded, liking the idea.
Jason took me shopping for ingredients. The man seriously knew how to cook; bonus for me. He promised me a pasta dinner, which I was ecstatic for. I loved pasta. I had received a message from Tiff, telling me I needed to do some edits on some parts of my latest book. My new editor sent me the info via email. I stared at it, unhappy that my night was ruined yet again. Just when Jason took the time try to make it better, here I was stuck having to work. Jason understood, saying that he’d cook while I wrote and not to worry.
We reached home and he went straight to the kitchen, while I went straight to my computer. I pressed the power button to my laptop and I waited until it came to life. I watched Jason in my kitchen as he went to work dicing onions. He was seriously perfect. His tight, grey t-shirt only heightened his muscles as he worked on making dinner. Focus Kass, you need to work. I turned back to my computer and focused on the work at hand.
I was completely immersed into my story, lost in the world I had created. I didn’t notice that Jason had finished cooking and even set the table for us to eat.
“Hey, my little author, food is ready,” he said as he stood waiting for me to reemerge back into reality.
“Shit, sorry,” I said sheepishly. “I tend to get carried away.”
He pulled out my chair and waited until I sat down.
“It’s all good,” he said, as he pushed my chair in.
He made the best Bolognese sauce I had ever eaten. I literally licked my fingers as I ate.
“You’re a keeper,” I said. I reached for my merlot, savoring the taste of my meal.
“I am?” he asked smiling. “Then maybe you should keep me.” He laughed.
“God, I don’t remember eating something this good in a long time. How the hell did you become so good at cooking?” I asked.
“Living on your own and watching the Food Network at work.” He shrugged. “Only because it does get boring waiting for a call to come in.” He fidgeted a little as he said it. I put my wine glass down, reached over, and took his hand into mine.