“Dolce and Gabbana, Light Blue.”
“Hell, it smells good. Not that I should be saying that while standing next to you like this, but it smells really fucking good.”
“Thank you,” I say as the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
The last few days have been . . . comforting. Spending all this time with JP makes me realize that he truly is a good guy. When his mind is clear, when he’s happy, he’s so open and honest and a good time. He jokes around—like he used to—and I hate to say this, but he sort of makes me feel alive. Like a part of me has been missing and he’s woken it up.
I feel excited to see him, thrilled to get a text from him, and count down the minutes until our next planned non-date. Within a very short amount of time, he’s become one of my best friends. Never would’ve expected that.
“This is kind of fun. I feel like a cat, massaging a gut.”
My hands pause as I turn just slightly to look at him. “What kind of analogy is that?”
“You know . . . how cats paw at things.” He replicates a massaging motion. “That’s what this feels like. Did you not have a cat growing up?”
“I didn’t.”
“Ah, you missed out,” he says, leaning in against me even more. “Shame. You never experienced a sandpaper tongue on the back of your hand. Or the feel of a cat’s claw seeping through the threads of your clothing, straight into your flesh. Or the absolute pleasure of sifting shit out of a litter box.”
“Yes, an absolute shame,” I say sarcastically. “What was your cat’s name?”
“Huxley and I called her Cat, because we didn’t have any feelings toward her. She was more of an annoying asshole than anything. Always clawed the shit out of us. But Breaker was best friends with the cat. Her name was technically Jiggles. Have you ever watched New Girl?”
“Yes, love that show.”
“Well, think of Winston and his cat. That was Breaker and Jiggles.”
Our hands collide in the bowl, and instead of pulling away or moving, I just let our fingers tangle through the masa mixture. I like it. I shouldn’t, but I do.
“I can’t see it. Breaker seems so cool and calm. I can’t see him fussing over a cat.”
JP chuckles. “Man, does he have you fooled. Sure, he’s cool and calm, but he’s the biggest nerd. Loves data, has autographs from every cast member of The Lord of the Rings, and he has been known to dress up a time or two as a calculator for Halloween.”
“What? No way.” I shake my head. “That can’t be true.”
“Trust me, babe, he’s a nerd. He has a computer at his place that he built on his own.”
“Gah, like Henry Cavill?”
“What?” he asks, confused.
“Henry Cavill, he built his own computer and recorded the whole thing. It was hot.”
“Wow . . . man, am I missing the mark on what women find attractive these days.”
“Then again, Henry is such a dreamboat. The chin dimple, the seductive eyes, the unbelievable muscles.”
“You know, some people have said that I look like a tattooed Henry Cavill.”
“Who on earth said that? Someone in your dreams?” I chuckle at my joke.
“Funny. No, it was a girl I met at a baseball game.”
“Uh-huh. And let me guess—she asked for your autograph and then was extremely embarrassed that she thought you were someone else, she apologized profusely, you consoled her, bought her a drink, and then took her home that night. Was she one of the hot-tub girls?”
“No,” he drags out. “But the rest of that story is scarily accurate.”
“Figured. When I was in college, there was this wave of girls who would pull that trick on guys all the time to get free drinks and an easy lay.”
“Any guy is an easy lay.”
“It was a pickup move. She played you.”
“Whatever, play me all you want. I had sex that night.”
“As if it’s hard for you to find someone to have sex with you.”
“You’ve been difficult,” he says, his voice practically caressing my skin. Once again, those goosebumps spread. “But, then again, you friend-zoned me from the beginning, so there was no chance.”
“You were off limits. I didn’t have a choice but to friend-zone you.”
He pauses, his rough cheek moving across mine as his hands sink deeper into the mixture. “Why was I off limits?” His lips nearly move against my cheek; I can feel them, they’re so close. Just a feather of a whisper away.