Page 33 of Wilder at Heart
He pours us each a glass of Chablis and holds his up. ‘Cheers. To my fake girlfriend, who came up trumps tonight.’
‘Cheers.’ The wine is perfect. Cold and mineral. ‘And you’re the one who’s come up trumps, roomie.’
He grins. ‘You’re definitely the first girl who’s stayed in myspareroom, that’s for sure. Though we can fix that right now.’
‘Not a chance, Romeo.’ I fiddle awkwardly with the stem of my glass. ‘You got to first base. Consider yourself lucky.’
Theo gets out a protective mat and puts it on the island in front of me. When the undersides of the crumpets are grilled, he takes the pan out of the oven and flips them over. I watch as he scrapes a curl from a block of butter and runs the knife over the untoasted top of the crumpets, the butter melting at the contact and dribbling down through the holes.
It’s almost pornographic, the idle way his long fingers grip the knife and the unhurried figures of eight the butter makes on the crumpets’ surface. Tanned, masculine hands.
Melted butter.
Hot crumpets.
Who knew this was the stuff my porno dreams were made of?
‘What are you doing?’
‘Extensive experience has taught me that if I put the cheese straight on top, the crumpets can be a bit dry.’ He finishes off the last crumpet and picks up a grater and a block of parmesan. The shavings curl and fall into piles, and he arranges them on top of the crumpets. ‘The butter means you get the crispy meltedtopping and a nice amount of goo in the middle when you bite in.’
Oh my God. That sounds fucking amazing. My mouth literally fills with drool as I imagine sinking my teeth into a cheesy, buttery wedge of crumpet.
‘Okay. So butter, then parmesan, then back under the grill?’
‘Parmesan and a hint of cheddar. Rounds it out.’
I groan as he picks up a block of cheddar and runs through the same routine before carefully returning the grill pan to the oven.
‘They might take a few years off my life, but it’ll be worth it. I had no idea I was in the company of such a crumpet expert.’
Little does Theo know that he’s far more likely to seduce me by feeding me double-cheese-and-butter crumpets than with innuendo or so-called charm.
‘I’m a master.’ He leans forward on the counter and winks at me. ‘I’ve helped a lot of women work up an appetite over the years, and crumpets are the perfect post-coital snack. I have a freezer full of them.’
Ugh. I’m such an idiot. I was sitting here, allowing myself to feel the slightest bit content and flattered, I suppose. Maybe not flattered, but let’s just say I was managing to relax and enjoy the moment. And while I don’t care who Theo shags or has shagged in the past, I really don’t need that information. Or that visual. Theo sauntering back into his bedroom with a plate of cheesy crumpets to sate the appetite of some stunning, sexily decoiffed woman he’s just seduced… So he has a freezer full of crumpets, and probably a bedside table full of condoms.
Honestly.
The guy is shameless.
My failure to reply probably hits home, because he leans further over and tips my chin up with his fingertips.
‘Hey. That was an unbelievably wanky thing to say. Sorry. I don’t always think before I speak, but that was uncalled for. You’re my guest, and I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.’
‘It’s fine.’
‘It’s not. I was being a dick. It’s pretty fucking immature to boast about my conquests to someone I’m not even trying to seduce.’
Ouch. I know he’s not trying to seduce me, but given he’s the only person I’ve been with since Jonathan in any form, it’s still hard not to feel slightly vulnerable in the aftermath of having had our tongues in each other’s mouths.
‘I mean.’ He releases my chin and buries his face in his hands. ‘Oh my God. What the fuck is wrong with me tonight? I didn’t mean it like that, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous. And if it helps, I thought our kiss was far fucking hotter than it should have been. That’s the truth. If I thought I had a shot at seducing you, I’d go for it. What I should have said is that you’ve made it clear you’re only interested in one guy. And that’s not me. So you’re not an option for my incredible seduction skills. That’s what I meant to say.’
He sighs heavily, and runs his fingers through his hair, and I watch him with genuine fascination. How would it feel to be like Theo? To come out with admissions—that I would class as requiring serious courage—likeI thought our kiss was far fucking hotter than it should have been—because you aren’t held back by sexual hangups, nor do you have any agenda. You don’t give a shit, basically.
Imagine if it was me who said that to Theo. If I left off my bra when I was getting changed, draped myself across his island and said,hey Theo. I thought our kiss was far fucking hotter than it should have been.If I just threw something like that out there while being totally relaxed about the consequences. Maybehe takes it as a come-on. Maybe he laughs in my face. Either way, no sweat.
But I wouldn’t. Because, unlike him, I’m not emotionally slutty. And consequences are my everything.
