Page 82 of Never Feed a Dragon

He wanted to know when it would be resolved.

I did too.

But I didn’t have an answer for him. Not the way he wanted me to.

“I’ll tell you when I know.”

He let out a long breath. “Alright.”

That respect? The acceptance?

It was a really big deal to me. Especially in the long term.

“Thanks,” I said.

The gratitude wasn’t enough, but it was genuine.

He was quiet a few minutes while I continued cooking. When I was stirring the sauce with one hand and trying to turn the chicken with another, he stepped up beside me and snagged the whisk from my hand.

It caught me off guard, but the help wasn’t unwelcome.

I just wasn’t used to it after living alone so much. Elodie used to help me make dinner when I cooked for the three of us, and having assistance was nice. I hadn’t realized how much I missed that.

“How good are you at cooking?” I asked him, focusing on the chicken.

“I can follow simple instructions well enough. Never cared much for making fancy meals, but cooking isn’t hard.”

“Unless you’re time-blind, like Randa.” My lips curved as I remembered her burning my sauce.

Repeatedly.

“Can you stir that for three minutes, then take it off the heat?” I asked.

“Sure.” He kept whisking.

And I kept glancing over at him.

At the muscles hidden beneath his t-shirt.

At the dark circles beneath his eyes.

My mind went back to the way he’d confronted me in my bedroom doorway.

He’d seemed like he was at his wit’s end.

…And there had been takeout food in his hands.

“You already bought dinner,” I blurted out. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“I’d rather eat this.” He gave me a quick smile.

Damn, those circles were deep.

He must’ve been sleeping even less than I was.

I couldn’t make him wait any longer to tell him what I was feeling. I didn’t have to make a decision—but I did have to talk to him. We needed to figure out a resolution.

Immediately.

---