Page 24

Chapter twenty-two

Isabelle

Six days full of flirty texts later, when I get to Kai’s apartment, I do as he told me over text and don’t bother knocking, simply turn the handle and walk inside.

“Kai? I’m here,” I call out when I don’t immediately see him.

His head pops out of his bedroom, and I can see he’s not wearing a shirt. “Hey Iz, gimme a minute. Just finished in the shower. I couldn’t get out of the stadium on time.”

“No need for clothes on my account,” I reply saucily, not expecting him to call my bluff. Serves me right when he does just that, swaggering down the hall wearing nothing but a very short towel wrapped around his lean waist.

“Really. Naked dinner? I’m in.” He comes to a stop when he’s in front of me, that smirk of his tempered by the affectionate warmth in his brown eyes. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I whisper back.

Slowly, so there’s no chance of me missing his movement, his hand lifts and cups my chin, tilting it upward slightly. Keeping his eyes open and trained on me, he leans down and brushes a soft kiss over my lips.

“Hi.”

“You said that,” I mumble against his lips that are pressed against mine again. I feel his curve upward in response.

“Mm-hmm.”

He kisses me again, deeper this time, and I let the shopping bags I was carrying fall to the floor, only thinking after it’s too late that it’s a damn good thing nothing inside was breakable.

With my hands now free, I wrap them around his bare waist, letting him draw me in tighter. He groans into my mouth when my hands roam up and down his back, his kiss trailing down my neck.

“Fuck, Iz.”

But I’ve got plans for tonight that require us both to be clothed, no matter what I joked about when I first arrived.

Keeping my touch the same, I gradually inch my fingers closer to his sides. Then, I attack.

“Shit!” He squirms, wrenching away from my tickling. “Isabelle!” He takes off with a laugh, but my finger catches in the edge of his towel, and it falls away, baring that delicious, tight ass of his.

He bends over and snatches it up before mock-glaring at me over his shoulder. “If you really wanted me naked, you just had to ask. Tickling is foul play.”

“Is it?” I put my hands on my hips and arch my brow. “Huh. And here I thought it was an acceptable form of revenge when someone teases you with certain ideas, then leaves you hanging for almost a week.”

“I had an away series,” he protests, but he’s grinning when he turns around, towel secured in place again.

“Excuses, excuses,” I tease as I sashay forward, placing my hands on his chest. I note how he flinches and I smile wickedly. “Don’t worry. I’ve made my point. For now.” Lifting up on my toes, I kiss his cheek. “Go put some clothes on. We’ve got food to prepare.”

By the time he returns to the kitchen, fully clothed but still dangerously sexy in a pair of low-slung athletic shorts and a snug-fitting black T-shirt, I’ve got most of the ingredients laid out on the counter.

“What are we making, Chef?” he asks, leaning against the counter beside me.

“Okay, so, Gianni and I were experimenting with variations on agnolotti the other day —”

“What the heck is anyo-whatti?”

It’s my turn to smirk as he straightens from the counter, looking baffled by the word I just said.

“Agnolotti.” I say it again, slower this time. “It’s a stuffed pasta that’s from the part of Italy my family is from.”

He slowly shakes his head. “Nope. Still can’t figure out what you’re saying. But okay, let’s make some anyo-whatti.”

I giggle. “Are you going to even try to say it properly?”

In response, he picks up a cherry tomato and pops it in his mouth. “Nope.”

I turn back to the ingredients laid out in front of me.

“Fine. Anyway, Gianni and I were experimenting with different fillings and sauces so he could put some new dishes on his menu. That night, I was lying in bed and thought of something I want to try, so I was hoping you’d want to make it together. ”

“I love that idea,” he says and there it is. That smile he only gives to me.

I lick my lips and then gesture to the ingredients laid out in front of us. “Okay. So, first things first, we need to make some pasta dough.”

A short while later, the counter is covered in flour and so is Kai's black shirt.

I giggle. “I honestly don't know how you ended up with more flour on you than in the actual dough.”

He’s so fast, I don’t realize what he’s doing before he’s picked up some flour between his fingers and thrown it at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you've got just as much on you as I do.”

I gasp in indignation. “I do not,” I reply primly, but then I glance down at my shirt, and sure enough, it's also dusted with the white stuff. “That's your fault,” I say as he moves to pick up some more flour.

“Kai, don't you dare!”

Before it can turn into a full-on food fight, a timer goes off.

“Stop,” I say, holding my hands up in surrender. “I have to stir the granita.”

“The what?”

I don't answer, turning instead to the freezer and pulling out the small metal container that holds the fruit puree I made earlier.

“Granita.” I give the contents a brisk stir.

“It's basically blended up berries with a little bit of sugar and some water. It needs to freeze, but I have to stir it every hour.”

“So it's like ice cream without the cream,” he says, peering over my shoulder and sneaking a finger in to steal a taste.

“Sort of. More like a sorbet, but since I won’t be using an ice cream maker, this one will have more texture.

And there won’t be any left if you keep sampling it.

” I smack his hand away as he goes in for another taste.

He backs away, sucking his finger. I put the dessert back in the freezer and return to the pasta.

“Focus, Yamaki. It’s time to make the filling.”

“Pulling out the last names, are we?”

“If it makes you behave,” I tease, bumping his hip with my own as I spread out the ingredients for the filling.

“Where’s the fun in that?” His voice drops low, and I can feel the warmth of his breath in my ear as he moves behind me. He’s covering me with flour, I just know it. Still, I lean back into him, my eyes closing as his hands drag up and down my body.

“Focus, Murphy. I’m hungry.” The slap to my ass is unexpected and has me yelping in surprise as my eyes fly open. Kai moves back beside me and looks over with an all-too-innocent expression. “What do we do, Chef?”

I exhale and push away the desire he sparks in me so easily. “First, we need to cut the corn kernels from the cob.”

He follows instructions well, and with only one more sneaky taste test, Kai manages to prepare the creamy corn filling. Things go downhill again when I try to teach him how to fold the complex pasta shape and we both end up wearing some of the filling.

But it’s fun. Being with Kai is fun. And comforting. And makes it seem as if the rest of the world, any worries or questions, any voices in my head causing me stress simply disappear.

After the pasta is all formed, we throw some chicken on the grill, I stir the granita again, and Kai makes a simple side salad.

Then we eat.

“Damn, Iz, this is incredible.” Kai shovels another mouthful of chicken and pasta into his mouth, looking at me in amazement. He swallows and takes a sip of water. “We made that? Holy crap.”

I take my last bite, closing my eyes to savour it, and admit to myself that he’s right. The flavours are balanced, fresh, and summery. It’s the perfect dish for Gianni to add to his menu. “It turned out even better than I expected. Thank you for experimenting with me.”

When I open my eyes, my gaze lands on his face and the soft smile I see there.

A smile that throws me back in time to the road trip we took the summer between our first and second year of university.

He would smile at me back then in a way that said he couldn’t believe he was there with me.

Like just sharing a hotel bed in a small town in Montana was a dream come true, and I was the center of his universe.

We were two carefree nineteen-year-olds, off on a grand adventure, fools in love thinking nothing could break us.

It would be so easy to fall back in love with him.

That thought hits me like a ton of bricks, and suddenly the room feels too warm, like the walls are closing in on me. I can’t fall in love with Kai again, and I can’t let him fall in love with me. I don’t think I could survive breaking his heart once more.

I stand abruptly and carry my dishes into the kitchen, needing some space from the feelings swarming me like a horde of angry wasps.

I know he follows me. So I’m not surprised when his dishes are placed on the counter next to me and his hands land on my hips.

“Isabelle,” he murmurs, gently urging me to turn around. I let him move me. Well, that’s a stretch. I wouldn’t be able to stop him if he forced me, but I know he wouldn’t do that. “Talk to me, baby.”

I drag my gaze upward to meet his. And all I see is warmth, affection, and concern.

“Sorry. I just got overwhelmed.”

Kai nods slowly. “By what?”

I gesture around us. “By all of it. Us. Together. Being here, cooking with you, thinking about what’s coming next. It just caught up to me.”

“Nothing has to come next, Iz. Nothing at all, unless we both want it. We’re friends, right?”

I nod, unable to formulate a reply, to put my true feelings into words that would make sense. As terrified as I am of getting involved with him, of possibly hurting him again, I can’t deny the pull I feel toward him. I’ve never wanted someone like I want Kai.

And he’s here, offering me more. He’s willing to take the risk.

“Well, as your friend, believe me when I say I’d be just fine if our evening ended with us watching TV, or hell, even if you wanted to leave right now. You’re in charge.” He makes his point by removing his hands from my hips and stepping back.

We stare at each other for the span of several breaths. He’s put everything in my hands. I have to decide our way forward. I have to choose if we give into temptation again or redraw the lines between us to protect ourselves from possible pain in the future.

Once again, I feel incredibly selfish. That’s the only reason I can think of why I’m unable to resist him, even knowing this can’t end happily ever after.

“I don’t want to leave.”