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“You’re sure?” He took a hesitant step toward the door while watching me like I was a skittery cat.
Great. I stepped back to make room and made an elaborate flourish with my hand, beckoning him in.
He flashed one of those knee-weakening grins and slipped past me so close I could feel the warmth of his body.
Which I should absolutely not be focusing on. He was a mammal. As was I. Mammals were warm blooded. So of course there was warmth when he passed me, if there wasn’t, then he could be sick. Or have a thyroid condition or something and oh my word, I was babbling in my brain and it needed to stop.
I shut the door and turned the top bolt.
He looked at me, one eyebrow lifted.
“Habit. Sorry. I’m not locking you in or anything. You can leave whenever you want. Promise.” I closed my eyes. Could I be any more of an idiot? “Like now, because I’m being weird, and I wouldn’t blame you for a minute.”
“You are being a little weird. I’ll give you that. Are you okay?”
I peeled open one eye and looked at him. He was watching me, but not in a “What’s wrong with the crazy lady” way. I’d take it. “Yeah.”
He waited. To be fair, he was probably expecting—and probably deserved—more of an explanation. But what was I supposed to say? I was sitting in the living room flipping channels and letting my mind concoct romantic fantasies about you before you showed up?
No. Way.
Ever.
“Um. Would you like something to drink? Or a snack or something?” I headed into the kitchen without checking to see if he’d follow. I wasn’t the best hostess in the world, but I had some manners.
What I didn’t have was a lot of drink options.
“What do you have?” Cody pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and settled in it, looking completely at ease. Completely at home.
What would it be like to have him there? My mind took off—those fantasies came easier and more frequently these days than ever before—and there he was in pajama bottoms and a snug white tee, hair tousled, and sleep still clinging to his features.
I turned away so fast I hit my face with the fridge door.
Ouch.
“Are you okay?”
I couldn’t look at him. The laugh that came out of my mouth bordered on hysteria. “Fine. I’m good. Just a klutz. I have water.”
I stared at the contents of the fridge and reached in to shift a few of the condiments. “Oh hey. I have fancy sparkling water from something. You want?”
“Sure. That beats tap water.” Humor laced his words, but also concern.
I grabbed the two cans of La Croix that had been lingering in there for who knew how long and shut the fridge. “I really am okay.”
“Uh-huh.” He took the can from me and his fingers brushed mine and my whole system went on alert. He popped the top and took a drink, then wrinkled his nose. “Why do people like this?”
I moved to sit across the table from him—no way was I sitting on the same side—and opened my can. I took a drink and shrugged. “It’s bubbly like soda, but without all the sugar and calories?”
“But it’s not sweet. It’s honestly almost bitter. And this is supposed to be lemon lime?” He shook his head. “I don’t see it.”
I took another sip. Maybe he had a point. It wasn’t the strongest flavor out there. But then again, it was water, not soda. “I like it. I can get you some tap water after all, if you’d rather.”
Cody shuddered. “No, I’m good. I don’t get how you drink the tap water here without some kind of filter first.”
“I guess it’s what you’re used to.” The tap water had never bothered me. Was it as good as out of a bottle or this fancy sparkling water? No. But it didn’t taste bad or leave a weird aftertaste or anything, so why not drink it?
I set my can down on the table. “So what really brings you over? Something up with the Christmas event?”
