Page 64 of Stuck with my Guarded MVP
I would’ve gone with him.
I stared at my inbox for a few seconds.
Maybe I needed some fresh air too.
I slipped on my sneakers, tied my hair into a quick knot, and ducked out for a lap around the block. Nothing intense, just enough movement to quiet the buzzing in my brain.
By the time I stepped back into the building, I felt calmer. A little sweaty. A lot confused.
My phone buzzed. Brooke.
You home? I want to return your container.
In the elevator. I’ll come to you.
Brooke yanked the door open mid-step, already mid-sentence. “You have to get that recipe from Liam. That risotto? I didn’t even leave any for Nolan. And I’m not sorry.”
I smiled. “I know, it's dangerous.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a loaded statement.”
“Not like that,” I said quickly.
My face felt warm.
Brooke gave me a look. “Well, if youdoget that recipe, I expect it in writing. Preferably laminated.”
“Deal.”
I got on the elevator, holding the empty container.
When I stepped back inside Liam's apartment, he was in the kitchen, putting the groceries away.
He looked up, and for a second, he just… looked. Like he hadn’t realized I’d left.
I held up the empty container. “Brooke wants the risotto recipe.”
He pulled a carton of eggs from the bag, set it in the fridge.
But he kept glancing over.
Why is he looking at me like that?
He looked at the kitchen and then back at me. “What if I show you how to make it?”
Why did that sound safer than it felt.
Lesson one was learning how to chop.
I held the knife, trying to remember everything he’d just said about keeping my fingers curled and the tip down.
Then I felt him behind me.
His chest brushed my back, his hand gently covering mine on the handle. The other adjusted the angle of the blade.
I froze. Startled.
His arms weren’t wrapped around me, not exactly. But it felt close enough to count.
