Page 19 of Miss Typed

He hesitated. “I don’t want to intrude.”

He was adorable when he was embarrassed. “You’re not. I’m starving, and have bread, tomato, and lettuce. It’s fate we should enjoy a BLT, washed down with a beer, don’t you think?”

He smiled fully, making me realize it was the first time he’d ever done so. It was a wonder I didn’t combust on the spot.

“It’s been awhile. You have a pan?”

“Yeah. You cooking?”

“Sure.”

Awkward. Because he wasn’t exactly initiating a conversation, yet he was in my kitchen, about to cook my bacon. Which wasn’t a metaphor for anything dirty but should be. But who said no to a hot guy who brought her two of her favorite things in the world on Christmas Day?

He took the pan I handed him, set it on the electric stove, and began laying the bacon down while I opened two beers.

I handed him one before leaning against the counter and taking my first sip. A groan of delight left my lips.

He chuckled, which I found contagious and laughed along.

“Good, huh?”

“It really is.” This entire thing was weird, but in the very best way.

As I watched him move around, it became more apparent he was favoring his left leg, which must be the one with the prosthesis. I wondered what had happened. Had it been painful? Since I realized he wouldn’t appreciate me asking, I instead concentrated on slicing the tomato, toasting the bread, and building the sandwiches. “Mayo?”

“Of course.”

I grinned, slathering the mayo on the toast while he flipped over the bacon, putting it onto a paper towel once finished. Five minutes later, the star ingredient did not disappoint as we sat down and took a bite at the same time.

“Heaven. This is heaven.” I washed the sandwich down with a sip of the lager and grinned at the fact my boss was sitting across from me on Christmas Day, eating and drinking with me.

He took another bite of his sandwich. “I can’t remember the last time I had a BLT.”

“It really allows the bacon to be the star.”

He grinned. “It does.”

And because I couldn’t stand it anymore, I had to ask. “How did you know where I lived?”

“Corporate housing, and I’m in security, so… I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow in the office to apologize. The bacon and beer are a peace offering for my overreaction. I hope me being here doesn’t bother you.”

“No, it doesn’t. I appreciate you coming over so we could clear the air before tomorrow. Plus, it’s kind of nice to have someone besides my roommate know where I am. Like if something happened to me, you’d at least know where to start looking.”

He frowned at my answer. But the truth was I often wondered who would notice beside Teagan if I suddenly disappeared. My family would notice when the money wasn’t transferred to them on Monday. Definitely Donald the loan shark would notice his missing piece. But if something bad happened, none of them would have a clue where I was. With Teagan gone, I felt more aware than ever of my solitude. “Anyhow, thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.”

My lips turned up. “Still not great with the chitchat, huh?”

He sighed, showing the slightest hint of vulnerability. “It’s not on purpose. Just doesn’t come naturally.”

“It’s okay. Sometimes sitting with someone in silence is more telling than hearing them talk.”

He studied me for a moment before speaking. “Most people feel the need to fill the gaps in conversation.”

I sipped my beer, taking a moment to appreciate him as the man sitting at my kitchen table instead of as my boss. He was obviously handsome, but the sexiest thing about him was the way he carried himself. Unapologetic, quiet confidence with a mysterious quality. Our lives couldn’t have been more polar opposites. He was the epitome of polished and professional with an Ivy League pedigree while I had a druggie brother and put myself on display each weekend at the strip club in a desperate attempt to pay back a loan shark.

We ate the rest of our meal in—you guessed it—silence. It was almost as if he was testing to see if I needed to fill the gaps. Honestly, I enjoyed our silence because I’d grown up in a house full of siblings. It was constant chaos, talking, yelling, and noise. And yet at the same time, I missed it. Especially on Christmas.