Page 36 of My Office Rival (Keep Your Enemy Closer #2)

CYNTHIA

“ N o, not like that.”

I let the whisk clatter down onto the counter.

“Well, show me how you would do it then, chef .”

Jason and I were in the kitchen. It was late morning, weak sun streaming in, and he was attempting to show me how to make waffles and something he called a French omelette, but mostly he was just criticizing my mixing skills and generally being a sexy pain in the ass.

He grabbed the bowl and tilted it confidently to the side before he started whisking in a circular motion, much faster than I had been.

The muscles of his forearms shifted under his skin, and my mouth went dry.

This is what he would look like if he were someone’s really hot husband, making breakfast in bed for her.

He’d probably top the pancakes with whipped cream, but only for her, not for himself.

She’d offer him a taste, but only if he licked it off her.

My stomach tightened. His clever tongue, his rough hands.

“Are you paying attention?”

I snapped out of it. “Um, yes.”

He raised an eyebrow and kept whisking. “See how fast I’m going? You need to aerate the egg whites. Whipping them like this means you’ll get stiff peaks.” He was utterly focused on his task while my mind flashed back to the couch earlier this week. Fast. Whipping. Stiff.

I needed to escape before I did something insane, like try to lick his forearm.

“Focus. Grab me that mixing bowl.”

I passed it to him and started dumping in the flour.

“What are you doing?” He barked.

I froze at the command in his tone. I closed my eyes against the waves of memory that assaulted me. His hand like a brand on my hip. His thumb digging into my skin. The bruises I had to remind me of his intensity.

“Mixing?”

“Fine,” he grumbled.

“You hate losing control.” I rolled my eyes.

“I love losing control.”

I had to smile at the innuendo. “You’re such a boy.”

He opened the fridge and I saw he had restocked again . We had green juice, berries, what looked like more kale, and another whole chicken.

“When were you planning to cook all that? Are we having the entire town over for dinner and I just didn’t realize?”

“Very funny. Some of us enjoy three square meals a day and vegetables.” He shut the fridge and began prepping the strawberries, his hands moving with confidence as he pared the tops and set them down.

“I eat vegetables!” I protested. “I just don’t cook them myself.”

That caused him to smile as he chopped. “Stick with me. I can teach you. After today, you’ll be able to make a mean breakfast. It’s my specialty.”

I bet it was . For all those one-night stands. “Send your one-night stands off with bruises on their asses and bellies full of waffles, do you?” Irrational jealousy clawed at me.

He put his knife down and turned to me. He tilted my head up with a thumb on my jaw. Serious blue eyes met my own .

“I don’t, actually. I’ve never made breakfast for anyone before.” His gaze was too deep, too earnest.

“Why are you telling me this?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, and his eyes widened.

“I know you think badly of me.” His eyes were pleading. “But I’m not a user. I have my reasons.”

I couldn’t resist him like this. Soft, undone, raw. “I wish you felt you could share them with me.” His throat worked, and he looked away. I sighed. “It’s okay, Jason. We can be friends. I don’t hold it against you.” I could be the bigger person. Friends. Right.

“Thank you.” His lips quirked, but his eyes were shadowed. “Now, let me show you how to make these waffles extra fluffy. Some might even say sinfully good.” He wagged his eyebrows.

“You’re such an idiot. But show me. I’m hungry.”

“That’s my girl.”

My heart squeezed in my chest. My girl. If only.

I think I’m falling for him. Or whatever the beginning of falling for someone was. I hadn’t felt this way in a long time, had maybe never felt this way. Margo would know.

Cynthia

When did you know you liked Andrew?

Like felt like a childish word, but it certainly wasn’t love.

Margo

Shut the fuck up. Are you in love with the Closer?

Cynthia

NO. Not love. Lust maybe?

Margo

I’m so calling you when I’m done with family brunch. Andrew’s mother just gave me a Chanel necklace.

WHY

Want it?

I laughed helplessly into the pillow I was lounging on. Andrew’s mom was forever trying to win Margo’s affections with expensive gifts, but Margo was more of a slouchy sweater girl than a Chanel necklace girl.

Margo

Anyway, I’m hiding in the bathroom.

How does he make you feel?

Cynthia

Like I’m going to be sick every time he looks at me.

Like I might die if I didn’t kiss him again. Like leaving this rental house might physically break me.

Margo

Knew it.

Yeah, I’m fucked.