Page 54 of Burn for You

I finally let out a sigh. My body heaving with relief now that he’s gone, but also feeling suddenly cold without his searing gaze upon my skin. I’m stuck in place, only able to watch him as he reaches for a bowl in the cupboard above where he stands. He pulls out two.

I watch as he grabs a serving spoon and heaps two generous servings of what looks like risotto into the two bowls. He turns everything off, and grabs two forks out of the utensil drawer, placing them in the bowls and sliding one over to me. “Buon appetitto.”

“What if I wasn’t hungry?” I say.

“You barely finished one slice of pizza. That’s hardly dinner.”

I frown. I want to refuse, but I’m starving, and this smells amazing. “Thank you,” I say, and it sounds wrong coming out of my mouth when I’m talking to Rafael.

“You’re welcome.” That sounds even weirder.

I take the bowl from the counter and make my way to the big dining table that sits beside the kitchen. I’ve never sat here because I’ve never needed to. It feels far too big.

Rafael sits at the opposite end of the table to me. With six seats between us, it feels like we’re some king and queen in the medieval times. “Do you host a lot here?”

“No, why?” His tone is forcibly dry, as if he’s trying to pretend the last five minutes never occurred.

“Well, I mean,” I scoff, looking at the huge table between us, but he just looks at me blankly. “This table is huge. Before I came along, only you lived here, right? So why the grand dining room?”

He looks down, moving his fork in his bowl. “It’s a big room. It needed a big table.”

“Right…”

I guess a small table would look ridiculous in this big wide-open space, but then again, why is this place so big? Why did Rafael build a house for ten when it’s just him here?

After dinner,Rafael cleaned up. I offered to do it since he cooked, but he refused. Seemingly he doesn’t want to get domestic with me. He’s thrown my emotions for a loop all in one night. I’m never able to figure him out.

I sit down on the couch and pull my crocheted blanket over my legs. The smell of smoke seemed to drift away with the breeze that day I hung it up outside, so I can now cozy up under it without feeling suffocated by the memories of that night.

I reach over to the coffee table, grabbing my current read and settle back into the corner of the couch. I’m reading a romance about a hockey player and an ice skater this week and I am loving every single second. Until the couch bounces as Rafael sits down at the other end.

“What are you doing?”

“Same as you.” He pulls out the sci-fi novel I saw him buying that day at The Cozy Corner. “Is that okay?” He asks sarcastically.

“Don’t distract me.”

“Don’t distractme,”he parrots back.

I roll my eyes in response and raise my book up so it’s blocking my view of him.

I can hear the soft sound of him flipping the pages as we sit here in silence. I’m still pissed off by him, and he is of me. It’s like a permanent state we live in, but for once it’s almost a peaceful kind of pissed off. Existing in each other's presence without any snarky remarks for more than ten minutes.

“I got something for you today,” he says quietly.

“What?” I lower my book so I can see him. “You,” I point at him. “Got something…for me?” I point back to myself.

He sighs. “Is that so hard to believe?” There goes our peaceful existence.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Fine, I’ll take it back tomorrow.”

I slam my book shut. “What? I never said I didn’t want it.”

“Nope.” He shakes his head.

“But now I’m just going to be constantly thinking about it.”

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