Page 3 of Drifter
“You got flour on your face.” Automatically, I move to wipe away the flour, and Drifter chuckles. “It’s cute.”
Cute? Since when am I cute?
“Are you going to ask me in?” he asks, waving his hand, indicating that we’re still in my tiny entryway.
I don’t trust my voice, but I step farther into the living room, leaving Drifter to shut the door and follow. Suddenly, I wonder if something has happened to Etain. I turn sharply, making him stop abruptly so he almost knocks into me. He reaches out and grabs my waist to keep us both from falling.
“Etain—” I gasp.
“Babe, Etain’s fine. She’s probably still in bed.” He watches me carefully. “Honest, sunshine. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
I exhale. “It’s just that she’s my best friend, and she’s been through so much.” Drifter cocks his head to one side, remaining silent. I’m not used to silence around other people. Mostly, my family is never at a loss for words. Simon carries much of our conversations, but with Simon, it’s a lot easier to be myself, and we do have great talks. Even Etain is happy to chatter, and I love listening to her. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, very aware of his hands on me.
Drifter’s eyes flit from me to my kitchen, where everything is laid out on my counter. “Were you making breakfast?”
“Cookies.”
He watches my mouth, and I swear he wants to kiss me. If he does, I think I’ll pass out. I’ve dreamt about the feel of his lips on mine. I dated, but it’s been a long time since I let a man kiss me. They were nice men, but their kisses did nothing for me. Never wanting to lead a man on, I made it clear immediately that friendship was all I could offer. Sometimes I would get a follow-up call, but when it was clear that my position wouldn’t change, the phone calls stopped.
With Drifter, I know his kiss would wreck me. It would be a kiss like no other, and after it was over, I’d relive the memory for years to come. But he doesn’t move, and his smile emerges.
“Can I help? If I do a good job, I might get to eat one or two.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Drifter wants to stay and bake cookies? It’s absurd!
“You want to bake cookies with me?” I squeak.
He lets go of me and saunters toward the kitchen. And it must be said, he saunters better than any other man I’ve ever seen. I pull myself together and move to the bowls I set out earlier for the next batch of cookies I was preparing to make.
“What are we making?” he asks.
“Cinnamon pinwheel cookies,” I murmur, cracking the eggs into the bowl. I nod over at the flour. “Can you measure out the flour? The recipe is right beside it.” Drifter grabs the measuring cup and starts his task. I’m at a loss for words. Drifter and I have never been alone, and up to this point, he’s never shown any interest in me. I need to ask why he’s here, but at the same time, I’m afraid to hear his reply. I summon the courage and, as casually as possible, say, “So, why the surprise visit?”
“We’ll get to that,” he replies, then asks where he can find the sugar. For the next hour, we bake together. He uses his phone to stream music and picks out songs with the word sugar in it. Titles like Sugar, Sugar and Pour Some Sugar on Me, and, of course, Brown Sugar. I find myself laughing and guessing at what the next song is going to be.
We work well together, and as the first batch comes out of the oven, the delicious aroma fills the air. The scent of cinnamon with the freshly brewed coffee makes my belly grumble, reminding me that I haven’t eaten yet. I grab a cookie and hand it to him, then take one for myself.
Drifter waits for me to take the first bite, then his own. He devours the cookie in two bites and is on his third by the time I finish my first. He takes my hand and leads me to my sofa, gesturing for me to sit. He goes back for our coffee, hands me my cup, and sets the plate of cookies on the coffee table, then sits next to me. He’s so close, our thighs are touching, but then again, it’s not a big sofa, and he takes up a lot of space.
“You’re shy.” Drifter breaks the silence.
“I’m not really shy. Just… well… I’m more the kind of girl who speaks when I have something to say. I’m not sure what to say. I don’t understand why you’re here, and you’ve been avoiding me since you first met me.” There, I said it. The air needs to be cleared, and since I’m on a roll, I let it fly. “I like Etain, and it’s been a long time since I had a friend I trust and care about. I don’t want to give that up, and since you and Hawk are tight, that means we need to find a way to coexist. I’m not sure what that looks like to you, but we,” I wave my hand between us, “have to find a happy medium.” He takes the mug out of my hands and puts it on the table, then places his hand under my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. Before I know it, his lips are on mine in a slow, sweet kiss. His lips are soft and firm, not intrusive, but deliciously teasing. I find I’m kissing him back.
I pull back abruptly.
“What’s happening?” I whisper.
“I’m finding our happy medium,” he replies with a sexy grin.
“But you don’t like me.”
“I like you.”
I blink. He likes me? Since when? “You pretend I don’t exist.”
“There’s no ignoring you, sunshine. I fucking tried, but it’s impossible when your light shines as bright as it does.”
Drifter is saying the words I’ve wanted to hear for over a year, but how can I believe him? Why now?
