Page 14 of Hard To Stay

When I turned my head, I caught his gaze traveling up my legs right up to my mouth.

I gulped, “Um, I know it’s not a five star restaurant, but I can whip up some mac ‘n cheese, and I have a cheap bottle of wine in the fridge.”

Brad shoved his hands in his pants pockets, looking guilty that I caught him staring. He moved his eyes, so they were trained over my shoulder. “I can’t remember the last time I had mac and cheese that didn’t come out of a box.” He said, slowly sliding onto one of the stools at the kitchen island.

My apartment was small, but it was cozy. The kitchen island didn’t leave much room to move around in, but I loved to cook, and it always felt like home when I was in the kitchen.

Walking over to the stove I placed the pan on the burner so it could heat up to a boil. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not much, but I promise you won’t leave here on an empty stomach.”

Brad leaned into the counter, stretching out his arms before folding his hands in his lap. “What are you sorry for? I love it. It actually sounds really good.”

“It’s just not very fancy.”

Brad cocked his head to the side with the corners of his mouth tugging into that grin I had come to love. “Do I look fancy to you, country girl?”

No, he didn’t! Not at all. He was the exact opposite of what I was used to. Maybe that’s why I liked him so much. Colton never would have allowed me to prepare this dish. Fats and carbs were almost forbidden. He always demanded that the food had to be clean, fresh, organic and healthy. On the rare occasions that I was allowed to make something similar to this, Colton always controlled how much was put on my plate, reminding me that it would only end up ‘hanging around my hips’. Cooking for him was a challenge at first but then it quickly became an escape.

Wrinkling my nose, I stared him up and down in mock disgust, feeling my playful side kick in. “Fancy no, you’re just very city-ish. You’re probably used to Thai and all that European food I can barely pronounce.”

Brad threw his head back in laughter. His deep playful laugh vibrated through my apartment and I absolutely fell in love with the sound. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Is city-ish even a word?”

I sheepishly replied, shrugging my shoulders. “Probably not, but it suits you.” I walked back over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay. “Wine?” I asked holding up the bottle for his inspection.

Brad bristled, “Is there any chance you have any beer in there?” He asked pointing towards the fridge.

“Nope!” I replied with a smirk.

Scratching the back of his head, he blew out a defeated sigh, “Okay, beggars can’t be choosers.”

Placing my hand on my hip, I narrowed my eyes at him playfully, “How dare you? I go to all this trouble of creating this elaborate dish from scratch, then you have the nerve to turn your nose up at my cheap wine.”

Brad rolled his eyes. “Will you quit fucking with me and pour me a glass of that wine?”

“Ask nicely,” I teased him, as my grin grew wider. Where was this playfulness coming from? I couldn’t remember the last time I was this relaxed around a man.

Letting out a dramatic sigh, he rolled his eyes and rephrased his question. “Lexi, would you mind pouring me a glass of that mighty fine wine, please?”

“Sure, no problem.” I smiled and filled his glass to the rim.

After putting the dish in the oven, I walked into the living room and paused. Brad sat comfortably on the couch while I stood there unsure where to sit. I felt stupid contemplating on whether or not I should sit beside him or in the chair across from him? When he moved closer towards the arm of the sofa, I took that as my sign. I could feel my body press slightly against his under my weight on the cushion. I handed him his glass of wine, staring off in the direction of the kitchen. The growing warmth of his leg against my own had me questioning whether or not I made the right decision.

Brad lifted his eyes to look at me. “Hey look, if we’re going to be friends and hang out, you’ll need to eventually stock up on some beer. Just sayin’.” He said casually over the rim of his glass.

My chest tightened at the thought of us spending time together. But then I was struck with a brief moment of regret for placing that ‘friend’ label on us to begin with. The word ‘friend’ kept circling around in my brain as I struggled to find a place for it. Even though I told myself that was all I had to offer him at the moment, it still didn’t feel right.

It was obvious that I was attracted to him, but it was more than just physical. God knew that would’ve been a good enough reason to want him, but there was something else, too. It was his sense of understanding, and there were moments that I seemed to trust him on an elemental level that frightened me. It was also completely crazy because I barely knew the man.

Even if I wanted to entertain the idea of the possibility of more between us, our timing wasn’t right. He was just a friend—a new friend—and that was exactly how I would treat him.

“Don’t worry,” I assured him while taking a sip from my glass, “I won’t tell your cop buddies that you drink white wine or that you’re considering doing a little moonlighting as a male model on the side.”

His laugh alone brought a goofy grin to my face. He angled his head to the side. “Lexi Manning, I can tell you’re going be trouble.” He taunted me while trying to hide his amusement.

My fingers played along the rim of my wine glass trying to break the silence. “So, friend.” I said silently, despising how much I hated the word. “What made you decide to become a cop?”

Brad set his glass down on the coffee table and turned towards me. “I knew since I was 10 years old that was what I wanted to do.”

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