Page 17 of Flirting With Forever
She heard a bell ding and Gage’s fast tread down the stairs once more. She finished what she was doing and walked out just as he shut the door and called her name to come and eat.
She felt a little weird going upstairs into his private space, but if they stayed downstairs, they’d be eating on her bed, so upstairs she went.
His townhouse was a typical bachelor pad. Big, bulky navy couch that looked surprisingly comfortable, a matching recliner, and the only piece of wall art—a massive television that took up practically the entire wall.
The kitchen had navy-blue base cabinets with open, wood shelving above, the white backsplash blending everything into a beautiful nautical theme without being too overdone. Combined with the plank flooring and white trim, the space looked neat and clean and easy to manage. And other than a few dirty dishes in the sink and dust on the coffee table, this part of the house was free of clutter. “This is nice.”
“Thanks. As you can see, I haven’t gotten around to decorating it. Normally I’m home long enough to catch a few hours’ sleep, and then I’m going again.”
Yeah, the bare walls and piles upon piles of stuff downstairs were proof of that. “It wouldn’t take much effort to do. I saw a few great pictures downstairs.”
“Sorry about that. Just put them in the hallway to get them out of your way.”
He opened the fridge and glared at the contents. Or rather lack thereof, she mused, able to see beyond him into the barren depths.
“Water or wine?”
“Water, please,” she said, feeling like that shy kid who went home with a friend and isn’t quite sure how to act around his family.
He shut the fridge with an elbow while holding a filtering pitcher and grabbed two glasses from one of the shelves. A minute later, she had water and a plate in front of her.
“Smells good,” he said as he opened the box.
It did, and her stomach growled loudly at the scent. Heat surged into her face, but she pretended it wasn’t her belly sounding off like a hungry bear after hibernation and snagged a slice after he took two.
Two bites in, the inquisition began.
“So, tell me about your family and why things are so complicated.”
She blinked and kept chewing, glad to have her mouth full as an excuse to give her time to ponder her response.
How much to tell?
Should she tell him anything at all?
Things were weird enough with her staying with one of her bosses, but she wasn’t sure where the line in the sand was drawn when it came to sharing personal narratives.
“Or we can sit here and awkwardly stare at each other.”
Her lips quirked up at the suggestion because she was perfectly okay with that. Again—not a bad view. But she swallowed the food and wiped her mouth and decided to go with it. “There’s not much to tell that I haven’t already.”
“What’d you major in, in college?”
“Accounting.”
He sat back on his stool and looked like she’d just told him she wrote the Declaration of Independence.
“You do not look like an accountant.”
Yeah, so she’d been told. Many times. But in a family like hers, her looks were considered an advantage when it came to schmoozing clients. “Do accountants have a look?”
“Yeah, and you don’t have it.”
She huffed a laugh and swallowed. “Well, maybe that’s why I didn’t graduate. You’ve figured out the mystery.”
Seconds ticked by, marked by the low drone of country music videos playing on the television in the background. And during every one of those seconds, she became more aware of him staring like she was the most fascinating mystery on earth.
And uncovering the mystery? Couldn’t happen.
