“Ah… I don’t know.” I pulled out my keys and turned the lock.
“Let me surprise you,” she insisted as I let her in first. “You’re always cooking for me. And I can’t really return the favor, so let me. It’s my turn to feed you.”
I liked that. I liked hearing that from her.
She walked to the coffee table, slipped off her boots, grabbed her laptop, and plopped herself onto the sofa. “You’ll love it, I promise.”
I joined her on the sofa, letting myself fall with a sigh. “I don’t know…”
She glanced at me over her laptop. “You don’t trust me?”
“What?” I said, but it came out as a grunt. I crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
I exhaled through my nose, confident I was pouting, too.
Her socked foot nudged my thigh. “What is it? Tell me.”
“I’m hungry, okay?” I grumbled. “I’m starving and I was very excited about those pizzas. But now, I’m not in the mood for pizza, either. I can’t get that smell out of my nostrils.”
“And?” She nudged me again with her foot, and because I couldn’t help myself, I grabbed it, wrapping my fingers around it and securing it in my hold.
I swept my thumb over her instep. “And you want Japanese, but sushi always leaves me… unsatisfied.” Hungry. Soon enough, hangry.
Rosie was taking her time answering, so I looked at her. She was staring at my hand, right as it massaged her foot.
Lines, Lucas. Lines. My fingers stopped but I didn’t release her.
“We’ll get something that’s not sushi. And you’ll love it, you’ll see.” She returned her gaze to her laptop. “I’m a little offended that you won’t trust my taste, though. So, if you want to make it up to me, you should continue with that foot massage.”
Keeping the sweet, delightful surprise to myself, I obeyed. Happy to be gifted with yet another green light tonight.
That, until she muttered under her breath, “Cheesy, bossy, and grumpy. Who would have thought?” And I stopped massaging her foot to tickle her instead.
* * *
That night we only lasted two episodes of our show before calling it a day and heading to sleep.
“Lucas?” Rosie whispered loudly from the master bed.
I smiled up at the ceiling from the couch. “Rosie?”
“Did you like the Chicken Karaage?”
“It was okay.” It hadn’t been just okay.
My head was already pondering how to reproduce the way they’d breaded the chicken and maybe even give it a twist. I could add crumbled crackers or even very finely chopped nuts marinated in soy sauce. I could—
“Liar,” Rosie called. “I saw you licking the container lids when you took everything to the kitchen.”
Busted.
I threw an arm up and rested my hand under the back of my head. “Fine, it was fucking fantastic. You were right, and I’d lick those containers again if there was anything left on them.”
She laughed and the sound made the corners of my lips inch even higher. It was a beautiful sound and it didn’t come out nearly often enough.
“Why are you trying to play the tough guy card and saying it was just okay?”
I went with the truth. “Because the plan had been to feed you those pizzas. And burning them bruised my ego.”
We fell into silence for a couple of minutes, my head going straight back into my gutter. Thinking of her, of tonight. Of her parted mouth and how I’d wanted to dip my head and lick her bottom lip—
I cursed myself when my sweats got a little tighter at the crotch.
“Lucas?” Rosie called.
When I answered my voice was thicker. “Yeah?”
“Tonight was amazing. Regardless of the pizzas.”
“I’m happy it helped, Rosie.”
“It wasn’t just that,” she replied. “Sure, it helped. More than you know, but I… loved it. It was the best second date I’ve ever been on. I don’t deserve you going out of your way so much for me—for this,” she corrected herself. “For the experiment.”
Something in my rib cage shifted. “Your bar is so low, Rosie. It drives me insane.”
A beat of silence.
“Why do you say that?” she finally asked. “I think my standards are normal.”
The fact that she believed that made it all even worse. “You shouldn’t be content with a date that ends up with you scraping an oven clean,” I told her, and I could hear the frustration in my voice. “Or standing on top of a counter, terrified.” I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds, needing the time to stifle the urge to say more than I should. “You deserve so much better than any of that. Whether it’s an experiment or not, you deserve more.”