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“I don’t know. She is just... friendly with me all of a sudden. And she always wants to know how we’re doing.”
He frowned and remembered he hadn’t told her. “I think just as Grandpa wants me settled in my career, she wants me settled in a relationship, specifically with you.”
Her hands stilled on a potato. “Ah, I see.” When he didn’t say anything, she said, “And?”
He grinned and threw an empty container in the sink that needed to be cleaned. “And what?”
She pointed the potato peeler at him. “And... what did you say?”
“Seems like you’re very interested in my love life.” He had said it as a joke, but her cheeks reddened, and she turned away.
“Fine, don’t tell me. What do I care?”
Frowning, he washed his hands in the sink and got closer. Maybe four steps away, but it didn’t feel close enough, so he took two more steps.
Her eyes widened. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. It’s your life.”
His eyes flickered from her face to her hands and back to her eyes again. “I told her I’m in no condition to have a relationship with anyone. I can barely touch someone.”
The urge was too strong, and he grabbed her hand at her side and held it with both of his. Her skin was rough and grainy from the potato peelings, but it didn’t bother him.
She visibly swallowed. “What about me?”
“What about you?” He stared at her tiny fingers and turned them over in his hands.
“You’re holding onto me.”
He met her nervous gaze. His heart fluttered, and he knew. He liked Hannah. All of her disorganization and crazy schedule and eccentric lifestyle, he liked everything about her. And he especially liked holding her hand. Until he had met her, he had thought he was incapable of holding a woman. His throat tightened with emotion. Already she had helped him through so many physical barriers. “You’re different.”
He tightened his grip around her fingers and stepped closer. It was as if a mental chain connected the two of them, pulling them closer together. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d taken the last two steps, touching the tips of her shoes and making his toes tingle.
Suddenly, the kitchen felt small.
Even though he liked her, he wasn’t sure he could go beyond hand-holding and linking arms. He hadn’t hugged a person in years. Someone’s arms around him felt like needles constantly poking him, and the sensation lasted for hours.
And ultimately, he knew she deserved someone who could give her everything, a life without boundaries.
Just as she covered his hand with her free one, he pulled away, breaking the tension and the physical contact. Needing a distraction, he headed to the fridge and stood in the cool air for a long minute. Then he grabbed something he had been avoiding. It looked like a furry brown three-fingered hand. He picked it up with two fingers and held it out to her in disgust. Luckily it didn’t have a smell.
“Trash can?” he asked.
Her cheeks were still as flushed as his. “Uh, no. That’s ginger, and I use it all the time.”
“But can’t you get some in a spice bottle?”
She shook her head. “It’s better fresh. If you don’t want to see it in the fridge, just stuff it in the vegetable drawer.”
The vegetable drawer had been full of half-eaten things that had gone bad. Despite his aversion to touching things, cleaning up messes was different. In his mind, he was conquering the problem. He sighed and hid the ginger in the back of the empty vegetable drawer.
Cleaning was distracting enough, and using his fingers to clean helped him forget the tingling her skin had brought on. Almost.
By the time everything was cleaned out, her fridge was practically empty, but clean. He wiped down the table just in time for her to bring plates and food. He looked back at the sink and counters and shook his head.
A few messes had returned. Peelings from the potatoes, small piles of flour, and containers open and out on the counter. “We’re going to have to teach you how to clean as you cook.”
She looked behind him and shrugged. “My food might not taste as good if I did that. I can only focus on one thing at a time.”
He’d noticed. Despite the mess, the air smelled amazing, and he was starving.
