Page 18 of Cinnamon Strudel
“Well, that gives me hope. I still have time to become successful.”
“If you keep drawing such gorgeous art, like you do, It’ll happen in no time.”
“Well, thank you.”
She returned to the stove but not without stroking the side of his knee with her knuckles. It was a short but intimate touch that had him cursing himself out for not having changed into shorts in order to feel her bare skin against his. When she announcedeverything was cooked and ready to be plated, he grabbed the dishes from the counter. Once settled at the table, he couldn’t help the hum as hefinallytasted the delicious food that had been taunting his nose.
“This is fantastic!” he blurted and immediately shovelled more into his mouth.
“So, I can come over more often?”
“I demand it,” was all he managed between large bites.
Ruby giggled and once his plate was empty, he went to grab more. But when he got to the kitchen, he found himself lost in his own home. Ruby had made their bowls and brought them in, so he wasn’t sure where anything was. His phone was also on the coffee table next to the couch, so there was no help there.
Shit.
Her footsteps approached, a tender hand finding his lower back. “Sauce and meatballs are on the back burner to the left, and noodles to the right.”
He gave a curt nod, irritated with himself. His home was the one space he never felt at a disadvantage. He reached out and carefully filled his bowl once more. But as he turned, his elbow knocked something, and the sound of dry pasta clattering to the floor echoed through the narrow space.
“Fuck.”
“I got it!”
When he moved to set his plate down to help Ruby, he almost planted it on something else. He ground his teeth to suppress another curse, spaghetti crunching under his feet.
“I’m sorry!” Her quivering voice came from the floor.
“Ruby—”
“I should have cleaned up after myself.”
“Stop.” Her shuffling quieted. “Stand up.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, now standing before him.
“I’m not angry with you. Messes happen, especially with me around.”
“I should have—”
“—donenothingdifferently.”
She inhaled and then surprised him by laying her hand flat against his chest. “Okay.” Another slow inhale. “Where’s your broom?”
“In the closet next to the front door.”
Her fingers curled into his shirt briefly before she disappeared. Once the mess was cleared, he spread his arms and with a sigh she followed the invitation to embrace her in a hug.
“I’m not upset with you.” He had a feeling that she needed to hear that more than once. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“That’s why I have all hard floors—I’m constantly forgetting where I leave my drinks and knocking them over. Yes, I was irritated, but at myself. I wanted to show you how independent I could be, and didn’t like that I was struggling in front of you.”
Ruby’s arms wrapped tighter around him, her cheek warm and soft against his chest. “I know we’ve only spent a little bit of time together, but I’ve never once thought that you weren’t independent.”
He inhaled her words, letting them soothe away his anger. “Thank you.” He only let her go when she made the first move to step away. “Now, where did I set that damn bowl down,” he teased, trying to break the tension in the air.
