“Huh,” I said and sat down at the barstool. “Is that your dinner?”
“This is our dinner, kiddo,” he said, flicking a pinch of salt into the pot and grabbing for a bottle of hot sauce. “I know you’re used to gourmet grub every night, but at Chez Derry, this is what you get.”
I raised my brow at the presumptuous “Chez Derry” comment but ignored it. “So, tell me, is this what you’ve been feeding yourself because judging from the way your chest is trying to break free of your apron, I’d say you’re used to eating raw eggs and power shakes.”
There was a hint of satisfaction as he smiled, as if he was waiting for me to comment on his newly buff body. I looked away, wishing I hadn’t brought it up. Still, I was far too curious and his shirt was far too tight.
“I mean,” I continued, studying the lines on the counter, pretending my ass hadn’t once been rammed up against it in a fit of passion, “what the hell have you been doing?”
He took a hard swallow and averted his eyes to the food. “Shall we eat first?”
I raised my chin. “Seriously, Dex. You never did explain any of this.”
He sighed and plopped the wooden spoon back in the pot, flicking off the burner. He leaned with his hands on the counter and looked me straight on.
“When you left,” he started, pausing to lick his lips, “I wasn’t in the best of circumstances. That’s sort of putting it mildly. To top it off, I hated myself for what I did to you. I mean, I really f**king loathed myself. Do you know what it’s like, to really loathe yourself? So that you can’t even look in the mirror?”
I kept my face impassive, but I knew exactly what he meant.
“And, after some time,” he continued, “I decided I didn’t want to be that person anymore. That person never got me anything but a f**kload of pain and did the same for a lot of other people. So I started with what was easiest first – my health. I started going to the gym. I started running. I quit smoking, re-did my whole diet…for the most part, anyway. I’ll never give up Mr. Daniels or the occasional mac, cheese and hotdog night.”
I sat there in silence, watching his face carefully. His eyes were darker than normal, and there was a grim twist to his mouth.
He lowered his head. “I was trying to be a better man, Perry. For you.”
I shifted in my seat. “Dex…”
“And I’ll keep trying,” he quickly said, voice low and somber. “Until I get it right.”
Oh God, it felt like my heart was shrinking. I tightened my hands into fists and quickly loosened them.
“Please don’t try,” I told him, even though saying those words made my stomach roll. “That’s in the past. It’s over. It’s done.”
He rubbed the heel of his palm against his chest. “But it’s not over. It’s not done. I can see it in your eyes.”
I let out a deep breath, nausea prickling at my core, and started focusing on my cuticles. He came around the counter and stood right beside me. I felt warm and heavy at the same time and fought with myself to stay strong.
“It’s not over until you forgive me,” he said, voice low and rough, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stiffen. “I know you need time…”
I avoided the eyes that were boring into the side of my head. “I don’t need time. I do…I do forgive you.”
Suddenly both his hands were on the sides of my face, a hot and firm grip. He brought my face towards his and forced me to look at him.
His eyes roamed deeply in mine, searching every crevice. “No you don’t. You say it, but you don’t mean it. I want you to mean it. I need you to mean it.”
Is that why I’m here? I thought. Is that why you asked me to move in with you? To win me over?
But I couldn’t say it. My mouth opened and closed and I was just so lost in his eyes, trapped in his hold.
“You’re losing your touch at lying, Perry,” he said.
Then he kissed me. The shock of his parted lips on mine rendered me helpless for a moment. The only thing I could do was kiss him back, because my brain wasn’t working and that’s what my body wanted. That’s what my body always wanted. Him.
He let out a low moan that was more felt than heard and one of his hands disappeared into the back of my hair, pressing me closer to him. He tasted like I remembered and the memory caused my legs to part, my muscles to go slack. Shivers passed over the small of my back. I wanted to run my fingers over his arms and chest, feel how hard he was, then go south and feel him even harder. Even though, just kissing him, feeling his tongue against mine, made me crave him like a junkie craved their next high.
And I was terrified of coming down.
I pulled back, maybe too hard. Dex flinched, but dropped his hands away from my face. He was so still, so close and breathing hard, his eyes glistening and pupils larger than life.
“I’m sorry,” I said, having difficulty forming the words. “This isn’t…this…”
He nodded and straightened up. “No, I’m sorry. You’re right…this isn’t…”
He couldn’t finish the sentence either. It wasn’t wrong and it wasn’t right either. God, we were f**ked up.
I gave him a small smile and smoothed down my hair. “If we’re going to be roommates for the next while, we should probably avoid doing…that. You know, make some house rules.”
He breathed sharply out of his nose but I saw the acceptance in his face.
“Sort of like, you do the dishes on certain days, I do laundry on others, no smoking, no kissing, no sex?”
I felt my ears burn. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“That doesn’t sound like a lot of fun.”
I shot him a killer look and he showed me his palms.
“Kidding,” he said. He cleared his throat and went back around to the stove. “So, hungry now?”
Actually, I wasn’t. All I could think about was how cold and empty my mouth felt without him there and food wouldn’t cut it. But I told him I was famished and we soon settled down on the couch to eat and watch mindless television. He sat in the middle, and I shrank up in the corner with the vague fear that if I touched him, I’d be straddling him in seconds.
I turned in early with bedding he had found. After texting back and forth with Ada, failing to ignore the huge mess I left behind, I was left in the dark room with only my thoughts.