Page 46 of The Blind Date

I dropped the food on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen to grab some plates, cutlery, and glasses.

"Technically, the least you could do is nothing." His lips slid into a slow smirk, and despite his need to always correct me, he grabbed some napkins and joined me on the floor in front of the coffee table. "I hate to point out the obvious, but you don't have a dining table."

"I used to have a dining table but rarely used it. I thought, what's the point of having a dining table if it's just me? Plus, my apartment feels so much bigger without it.”

"That's a fair point.” He reached for his second slice of pizza, having devoured the first in mere moments. It appeared that fixing a boiler was an effective way to build up an appetite. "I'm a normal person where I still own a dining table even though I rarely eat at it."

“Don’t you think the extra room has really opened up the space?” I asked, gesturing to my beautiful, spacious apartment. Even if I did say so myself.

“Your apartment does look bigger than mine.” He agreed, his words almost sounding like a compliment.

“Where do you live?”

“Why? Are you planning on camping outside my apartment like a scorned lover, darling?” Cedric joked.

“No,” I scoffed and fought a smile. “I think it’s only fair I know where you live since you now know where I live.”

“I’m currently renting out an apartment in Canary Wharf, but the plan is to move out of the city in a few years.”

“Are you saving up for a place?”

Cedric nodded. “I’m hoping to buy a place somewhat close to my parents.”

"Really?" I asked curiously, feeling like I was seeing Cedric in a new light.

Sure, I didn't know much about him, but I didn't expect Cedric Barlowe to be the kind of man who actively looked to stay near his parents. Usually, men his age did all they could to put as much distance between themselves and the parental duo that birthed them. But apparently not Cedric.

“Why does that surprise you so much?” He asked, curiously cocking his head to the side.

“Most men your age try to move away from their parents, not practically move back in with them.”

Cedric shrugged. "Well, I'm not like most men my age."

“I can tell.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

"Nothing.” I shrugged and grinned, aware and loving that my lack of a clear answer bothered him.

“That’s a typical answer for a woman your age.” Cedric shot back at me, trying to bait me, but I refused to fall for it.

“You speak as if you’re years older than me.”

“I kind of am.”

“Six years isn’t that big of a difference,” I tried to argue.

"It isn’t when you're in your late twenties, but if you were on the other side, you twenty and me twenty-six, it would seem like more of a bigger deal."

“You’re not wrong there.”

“What about you? Do you own this place, or are you renting?"

"I'm renting too,” I said as I helped myself to a second slice of pizza.

"Is that the long-term plan, or do you plan on investing in property?"

“I’m saving up for a place as well,” I told him. “But with London’s extortionate prices, I’ll probably have to move further out as well to be able to afford anything. And even then, I probably won’t be able to start looking for places for another year or so.”

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