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“Ask and you’ll receive. Or that’s how it’s meant to go, anyway.” He shakes his head, like he’s made some kind of decision, and drinks his vodka, and then he goes to the kitchen and comes back with the bottle, sitting next to me and refilling our drinks.
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Simpson?”
He gives me a long, considering glance, one that smolders in the center and flame licks up inside me. “Do I need to?”
“No.”
He leans in, and I want that kiss that burns in his gaze and his mouth comes so close to mine I can taste it.
Of course, that’s when the doorbell rings and the tiny moment is shattered. Magnus sets down his drink and gets to his feet. “Pizza.”
When he returns and we’re eating the pizza, I shake my head and say, “I’m going to pay you back for all this.”
“Why?”
“I need to.”
His eyes darken. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” I set my pizza slice down and pull up my knees to my chin. “You can’t afford it, and I’m not built that way.”
“What way is that, Zoey?”
I breathe out as he smooths a curl from my face. “The charity way, I can get by on my own.”
“Everyone needs a little help, even if it’s someone there for them, or a pizza.”
“It’s just…” I stare at him, those onyx eyes are so warm and inviting. “I’ve made my own way, and that’s one thing instilled in me, you know? Help others where you can, and look after yourself. Clean up your own messes. This is my mess. I let things get like this. I should have—”
“What? Taken care of something big like the pipes when you didn’t have to?”
“But I did have to. I knew they were old and—”
“Zoey, unless someone told you this must be done a year ago, five years ago, a week ago, whatever ago; unless someone told you that if you didn’t disaster was right there, then you wait until you have to do something. Did they?”
“The last time I had a plumber in, they said one day I should replace all of them, so I knew what that meant.”
“Yeah, but they didn’t say this would happen. Come on. So you knew one day, but you got by. This isn’t your fault.”
I sigh and rub a hand over my forehead, but he takes my hand, and lifts it to his lips, kissing my fingers. “Not. Your. Fault.”
I could argue it. I’m not stupid. I knew I needed to do something, but I always pushed it back, always figured things would hold on. And maybe he’s right.
“We’ll think of it tomorrow. You’ll have the day off. You won’t pay me, because I’ll use that time for things I have to take care of, and then we’ll get things done. And everything has a way of working out. Maybe not how you want, but things work out. And time always is a gift that shows you things in a neutral light the further along you get.”
“Have you been reading the back of cereal boxes?” I ask with a laugh.
“That and the inspirational section of the bookstore. Just the blurbs.”
“Idiot.”
“Around you? Yeah, I think I am.” And Magnus leans in, kissing me, his mouth warm and tasting like pizza, vodka, and that dark moreish taste that’s him alone, one that’s full of sex and toe-curling things.
The kiss isn’t deep, but the passion teases at my edges and inside I shift, a latent need starting to burn as I return the caress, my hands sliding into his hair and it’s the sweetest tease, his mouth on mine, his tongue slow dancing, drawing me into him.
Finally Magnus lifts his head. “I could kiss you all night. I could do a whole bunch of other things, but maybe we should just settle down and watch some TV?”
“Are you respecting my taking things slow, even though we’ve been down and dirty and naked?”
