Page 81 of Never Feed a Dragon

I’d been itching to eat a home-cooked meal after so much takeout food, so I was already getting out ingredients for the recipe I’d chosen when he came in.

Though he seemed hesitant, he made his way to the kitchen and sat down in one of the bar stools. I pounded the chicken breasts with my rolling pin, and he eyed the tool suspiciously.

“I’m not going to hit you with this,” I grumbled.

“Thank the sky for that.”

I shot him a dirty look then refocused on my work.

He leaned back in his chair. “On a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you?”

“Is ten high or low?”

“High.”

“Probably a six, then.”

He whistled. “Way better than I thought. Want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“You’re not hiding in your room anymore, though.”

“I was trying to avoid confronting you,” I said. “Jasper told Randa that he couldn’t have let her go home with another guy at Elodie’s wedding reception. It sounded suspiciously like our situation.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Next time, you should just confront me.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Is there going to be a next time?”

“Where I’m keeping secrets from you? No. But I can see a similar situation occurring if there was something else you didn’t want to confront me about. Like… something I did wrong.”

“I don’t usually avoid confrontation.”

“I know you don’t. But I’d rather fight with you than dance around the truth.”

“Me too.”

He was quiet for a moment.

I got the chicken cooking, feeling his gaze on me as I did.

“How do you feel about what I said?” he finally asked.

“I haven’t decided.”

“You’re usually pretty damn decisive, Spaghetti.”

“I’m aware.” My back was to him while I kept working.

“You don’t want to tell me your thoughts so we can figure out a plan?”

“Not yet,” I said honestly. “I need to decide what I want first. And how I feel.”

“Alright. Can we put that conversation on the calendar?”

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