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“Wow, that’s actually a surprise.” I was stunned. “You can cook?”
“I’m not too bad at it.”
My heart started to race. “So, we’re going to your place?”
“Is that a problem?” He looked at me for a beat before we drove off.
“No, not at all.”
“I wanted to show it to you anyway.”
“Why?”
“So you can keep it in mind in case your house ends up being too cramped.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s very thoughtful of you, thanks.”
We spoke about our respective days until we reached his building, and I relaxed a bit. It was impressive—one of the tallest buildings I’d seen along the water. His penthouse was even more impressive, though.
“Nick, this is incredible!” I was proud of being a homeowner and everything. Boston wasn’t cheap, and for someone to be able to afford a house with a single income was no small feat, but this was on another scale altogether. “All this light!” The sun was just setting, and the view from the living room was gorgeous. He didn’t have floor-to-ceiling windows everywhere, but there were plenty of them to take in the surroundings. “It feels like we’re up in the clouds.”
“I know.”
“And yet you’re willing to move?” I turned to him. He’d gone straight to the huge kitchen.
It was modern, like the living room. The colors were rather minimalistic—a lot of grays and blacks and white. He had a huge fridge, plus a smaller one full of wine. The kitchen island was enormous, with a granite countertop.
“I think I might have fallen in love with your kitchen.”
He winked at me. “I like it too. Gives me enough space to work. I’m a disorganized cook,” he said.
“Out of all the things that have happened lately, this is something I hadn’t been counting on.”
“What? Me cooking?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Why not?”
Why not indeed?
I racked my brain, trying to come up with an explanation. “Because you’re such a fan of pizza, I guess. I don’t know. Sorry, I just jumped to conclusions.” I shook my head. “What are you making?”
“You like spaghetti carbonara?”
“Yes!”
“Perfect, then that’s what I’m making. I have everything I need, and it doesn’t take long.”
“God, the view here is so impressive. I like that you can see the sunset.”
“And you can see the sunrise from my bedroom.”
I instantly blushed. Knowing that detail seemed a bit too intimate.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked as he started to chop onions and ham. “I have wine, obviously.” He pointed to the wine fridge.
“I don’t want any alcohol. I’ll look in the fridge to see what else I can have.”