Page 36 of Without You

“Are you serious?”

He looks up at me with a question in his eyes. “Yes. Why?”

“It’s just…” Laughter bubbles up out of my chest and I quickly cover my mouth with my hand. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Oh, it’s something. What are you laughing at?”

“Sabrina. The name is cute. Charming, even.”

“Okay? And that’s a bad thing?”

“Nope.” Not even going to touch this. If he’s happy with the name he gave his kitten, who am I to judge.

This man is definitely a mystery. Ugly kitchen and all. I have a feeling, if he’ll allow me, I’ll have a great time unfolding the clues that make up Brody Redding.

Taking the few steps to stand in front of him, I reach out and pet the little fur ball.

“Sabrina,” I murmur and look up into Brody’s eyes. He’s watching me intently, and if the expression on his face is anything to go by, he likes something that’s happening.

I look around and my eyes land on his bed. The very one we’re standing next to. Quite closely, I might add. It makes my mouth go dry and when my eyes move back to connect with his, I see the heat there that I wondered if I was imagining earlier.

“What do you think?” he asks.

What do I think? I think he’s sexier now than he was when I first laid eyes on him when we were sixteen years old and that’s saying a lot because I had a lot of fantasies about Brody when I was younger. I also think his house is amazing, sans the kitchen, obviously. And he has an adorable kitten and he reads and I can’t express deeply enough how badly I hope that he wants me as much as I want him. At the same time, I’m afraid I’m jumping ahead about ten steps because we just got reacquainted. He’s now my landlord, and I was recently a bridesmaid in his ex-girlfriend’s wedding. Oh! And let’s not forget that I’m about to go back to school and he’s getting ready to begin the biggest change in his career, and will probably be meeting a ton of people that I have no way of competing with. If that isn’t a lot to think about, I don’t know what is. Obviously, I’m not a crazy person so I don’t say any of this out loud. Instead, I cock my head to the side and ask, “About?”

“The house.”

“Oh! Right. It’s great.”

“Yeah?”

“For sure. You’ve done a great job with it.”

He sets the kitten down and she moves to a tiny bed in the corner that I somehow missed during my earlier inspection. Sabrina turns around a few times and paws at her bed then curls up and lies down.

“You like it, huh?”

“I do.”

“All of it?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye and teasing glint to the tone of his voice.

I give him an annoyed look because I don’t want to lie to him but I absolutely don’t want to offend him and call him out on having one of the ugliest kitchens I’ve ever seen in my life. In fact, it would have been ugly in the 60s. It’s definitely not gotten better over time and none of it is appealing in a vintage way.

He barks out a laugh. “Want me to take you out of your misery?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie.

“Oh, you don’t, huh?”

Guiding me out of his bedroom, unfortunately, I resist the urge to look back at his bed longingly. Man, it’s been a while since I’ve been with a man. Maybe that’s why I’m so ready for Brody. I haven’t felt the weight of a man on top of me in two years. Two. Years.

“No clue,” I mutter.

“Uh huh. What do you think of my kitchen, Katie?”

“Huh? Oh, your kitchen? It’s great.”

Chuckling, he replies, “Liar.”

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