Page 54 of Death, Interrupted

“Yeah?” I took a seat next to her and filled our glasses with water. “I have to be honest…I’m impressed with myself.”

She laughed, then picked up her fork and knife to cut into the salmon. “That’s hard to cook,” she said slowly before taking her first bite, and her eyes widened. “And you cooked it perfectly, Sly.”

“Yeah?” I asked, trying not to let the grin take over my face.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I’m really impressed. This is delicious. Thank you for cooking for me.”

“You’re welcome, baby.”

Something warm and almost stupidly big spread in my chest. I watched her take another bite, hershoulders relaxing as she chewed. Before I turned into a creep by staring at her, I started eating myself and was truly surprised at how good it tasted.

“Guess I can tick ‘learn how to cook something other than ramen’ off my bucket list, then.”

She laughed and nodded. “You really can. I bet now you can cook right about anything.”

I leaned back in my chair, smirking. “Careful. Keep hyping me up like that and I’ll start cooking every night.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she held my gaze. “I wouldn’t complain.”

The room went quiet for a few seconds, only the clinking of forks against plates filling the air. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was the exact opposite. It just felt right.

I caught her smiling to herself as she took another bite. She didn’t realize how much she gave away without speaking, how her eyes and her lips and the way she held herself made it clear that she was enjoying this, and I wanted to tell her exactly how she affected me, but the words stuck in my throat.

I didn’t want to catch her off-guard or make things awkward, so I stayed quiet and kept eating, and held those feelings in me until the time was right to let them spill.

Chapter 19

Sumner

“Doyou want ice cream?”

I turned my head to see him standing in the kitchen. He’d just finished cleaning up while I sat on the couch and watched TV.

That was another thing Joey never did. I’d always been the one to cook and clean while he either went to the gym or spent his time cursing at whoever had pissed him off thatday.

Sly was different in that way, and not only because we were at his place. He did this at my apartment, too. He’d put away dishes, make tea, and make sure I was comfortable.

The more time I spent with him, the more my heart loosened its grip. As scary as it was, I stopped running through worst-case scenarios the way I always had, and a certainty about what might lie ahead for us began to replace the doubt. I didn’t rush to name what I was feeling or drag it into the open. I kept protecting my peace while I learned to trust again. That trust didn’t feel fragile. It felt earned, and I knew he’d give me the time I needed.

“Do you have any here?” I asked, turning more on the couch to face him.

“Yeah.” He squinted, trying to remember what he had in the freezer. “At least I think I do.”

I watched him pull open the door, lean forward, and dig through the shelves. A sigh followed the sound of frozen bags shifting. “Fuck. I don’t have any.”

“That’s okay,” I said, smiling gently. “Dinner was enough.”

He turned, still holding the freezer door open, and gave me a look that said he didn’t agree. “That’s good, baby, but I think I need some.”

I pursed my lips. “You got a sweet tooth?”

“Always had,” he said with a grin, letting the door close with a soft thud. “It’s my one vice.”

I laughed quietly and said, “We can go to the convenience store across the street. Get you some ice cream.”

He raised a brow. “You want to go?”

“Yeah,” I said, already reaching for the blanket to fold it over the armrest. “I’ll come with you. It’s not like it’s far.”