AllFreeNovel
Share Us
JESSE
I openthe sliding door that leads onto the back porch, a glass of water in hand.
Marci’s been out here most of the afternoon, only popping into the apartment to use the bathroom. She’s tucked her legs underneath herself on the porch swing, her gaze fixed on the waves, crashing on the beach.
“Careful,” she says. “Don’t.”
“I brought you water,” I say. “And I made you dinner.”
She stiffens. “The cat’s here. I’ve been trying to get it to eat and drink while I’m sitting here.”
Mr. Skitters is a tiny ginger cat, an adolescent by my guess, and he’s crouched underneath a bush beside the low steps that lead onto the sand. He watches both of us with wary yellow eyes, but this is the closest he’s come to the house while someone is outside. Usually, he waits until I’ve put out his food, and then I stand inside, staring at him through the glass sliding door like Hannibal Lecter. Minus the cannibalism.
“He doesn’t usually hang out like this,” I say. “He must like you.”
She hums softly.
“Hungry?”
“It’s not food I can’t stomach,” she says, and rises from the swing.
She follows me through my bedroom, casting an accusatory glance at the bed, and into the living room, kitchen combo.
Marci stops after a few steps, her nose wrinkling.
Adorable.
Fuck.
“What?” I ask, turning the plate of pasta toward her.
“It smells great. You cook?”
“On occasion,” I say. “I don’t usually have anyone to cook for unless it’s for the potluck.”
I gesture for her to sit down at the kitchen counter on the stool beside mine. She does, setting down her glass of water, the ice clinking.
“It’s a lemony, creamy pasta. I watch this one chef on YouTube who makes these incredible videos. He’s got a kickass recipe for beef stew I want to try,” I say.
“Thank you.”
Marci picks up her fork and studies the tagliatelle like I’ve poisoned it.
“Parmesan?”
“Sure.”
I grate some over her plate.
Marci takes a bite and lets out a moan that sends arousal shooting through my body. She presses a hand over her mouth.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I enjoyed that more than you enjoyed the food.”
She chews slowly, then turns to me.
“Taylor,” she says.
