Page 93 of New Growth
Trouble.
Icouldgetusedto waking up to this.
The scent of butter and eggs filled the air, mixing with the faint traces of El’s cologne. His side of the bed was still warm, even though he had left it. I laid still, taking in his warmth for as long as I could until the heat ran out. Then, I ventured out to find the source.
I found him standing at the stove, glasses on, and shirtless with his sweatpants slung low on his hips, looking like he hadn’t caused a scene at a restaurant less than twenty-four hours ago. Or like he didn’t study my complete anatomy just hours after that. I was beginning to think nothing fazed this man.
“Good morning, Peanut,” he said without turning around.
I slid onto one of the barstools at his kitchen island. “Good morning.”
El glanced over his shoulder. “I’m not the best cook, so I just made some eggs.”
I eyed him warily. “Oh God, are you one of those people who seasons eggs like it’s meat?”
“Absolutely not. Too much sodium,” he scoffed.
I nodded approvingly. “Good. Eggs should not taste like pork chops.”
He laughed, shaking his head as he plated the food.
I watched him closely, leaning on my elbows. “How are you from New Orleans and can’t cook?”
He scoffed. “It’s not like I could have a lot of the stuff anyway.”
“Why?” I asked.
He pointed towards his insulin pod. “Too much sodium.”
I bit my lip for being oblivious to the obvious. “Right, my bad.”
He smiled. “It’s okay. I can make some toast if you want.”
“I’m fine.” I took a deep breath, bracing myself before I continued. “El…”
“Yes?”
I hesitated before asking, “Can we talk about the restaurant?”
He set the pan into the sink and turned to face me. “Sure. What about it?”
I straightened in my seat, meeting his eyes. “It was wrong. You overstepped. Tracking my phone and showing up unannounced was completely uncalled for.”
He leaned back against the counter, arms folding slowly over his chest. My eyes caught on the way his bicep flexed, the way his veined, inked, and solid forearms shifted as he crossed them. So damn distracting I almost forgot why I was upset in the first place.
Almost.
“Was it?” His calm voice cut through my wandering thoughts. “Because I distinctly remember telling you I didn’t want you to go on that date.”
My spine straightened at the shift in his tone, and my jaw clenched.
“Elliot, we arefriends. That’s it. So thinking you have a say in what I do outside of our friendship is ridiculous.”
That made him move.
He pushed off the counter without a word, took the plate he’d just finished preparing, and walked over to me. Then, he placed the plate down in front of me but didn’t step back. Instead, he stayed there, looming over me, tall and solid and unrelenting. I could feel the heat of his body in the space between us.
Too close.
