Page 85 of Fair Catch

“I know you are, that’swhyI’m laughing.” Dark green eyes find mine and he smiles in a way that has my stomach fluttering with those damn butterflies again. “I just never took you for such a snuggle-whore.”

“I’m not one to show all my cards at once. Gotta keep you guessing somehow,” I reason, watching him as he continues prepping the chicken. I let my eyes leisurely scrape from the food to him, noting the concentration with which he works. “And if we’re being honest, I never took you for someone who’d know what they’re doing in the kitchen. I guess we’re both still keeping some cards close to the vest.”

A snort leaves him. “It’s not like it was some deep, dark secret.”

“Neither is my cuddle obsession,” I counter.

“Considering your distaste for ninety-nine percent of the human race, I’d beg to differ.”

Okay, valid point.

With the chicken prepped and ready to go in the preheating oven, Kason moves to the sides, slicing mushrooms, broccoli, and various colors of peppers. I watch him work in silence for a while, filled with wonderment at how many different facets there are to him.

“How’d you learn to cook, anyway?” I find myself asking when he drops the veggies in a frying pan on the stove, the sound of sizzling filling the kitchen.

“Had to learn to fend for myself pretty early on.” He drops the chicken in next, including all the different spices, before looking up at me while he stirs. “My dad wasn’t exactly serving me home-cooked meals every night after mom left. And when the Mercer’s started letting me spend time there, I’d already started to like cooking, so helping Phoe’s mom in the kitchen wasn’t a hardship. It actually became one of my favorite parts of the day.”

It’s weird to think about, but at the same time, I can picture a younger, ganglier version of Kason learning to cook beside the only mother figure he’d ever really had. And honestly, as wholesome as the thought is, it also makes my heart ache for him.

That he didn’t have that with his actual mother. Or that he had to learn to take care of himself at all.

“I’m glad you had them.”

He smiles a little, but it’s a sad, somber kind. “Yeah, I am too. Who knows where I’d be without them.”

“Well, I think you’d be well on your way to becoming Chef Fuller,” I muse, leaning back against the back of the stool. “Kinda has a ring to it, actually. Maybe you could even have one of your own shows, like Gordon Ramsay.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “ I don’t think I’m a big enough dick to be the next Gordon.”

“Eh, we could be a duo. You do the cooking and I do the yelling. That’s the perfect dream team, right there.”

Amusement and something else—something a little daydreamy—lights up his eyes when he meets my gaze again, and he nods. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll keep that in mind if football doesn’t work out.”

Kason goes back to watching the food, stirring the contents of the pan and adjusting the heat as needed, and I have to admit, he really does seem to know what he’s doing. I think even my mother would be impressed, who, despite having a staff who cooked for us on the regular, always insisted on doing Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners herself.

Thoughts of the holidays have me taking a momentary pause, and I check my phone for the date, realizing that one of those very occasions is next week.

Hopping off my stool, I round the counter and cozy up beside him, watching what he’s doing up close now.

“Speaking of cooking,” I muse, my fingers trailing up his bare arm. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving break?”

He shrugs absently, eyes still fixed on the stove. “I think we will have practice at some point, so I was just planning to stay here. Hang out, play it lowkey. What about you? I’m assuming you’re going home?”

Damn, I hadn’t thought about his practice and game schedule. But I nod, answering, “Yeah, my mom usually has us do the whole big dinner even though it’s just her, Dad, and my brother.”

His eyes snap up to mine instantly and he turns to me. “In all the time we’ve been spending together, how am I just finding out you have a brother?”

I honestly hadn’t realized that bit of information had been left out in all the endless conversations we’ve shared, discovering new things about each other. I guess this is just one more to add to that list of cards I’ve apparently kept in my hand.

“It wasn’t intentional.” I wrap my arms around his neck, playing with a few strands of hair at the back of his head by twisting them around my finger like those curlers my mother used to wear to bed. “Besides, you know I’m not good at sharing unless you ask to know something.”

“Maybe, but you’ve gotten a lot better at it lately,” he points out before smacking my hand away. “And stop that before it actually curls.”

“You’d look cute with littleAnniecurls all over.”

“And you’d look cute with my dick in your mouth for dessert, but that’s not happening until you tell me about your brother,” Kason counters as he steps out of my hold to take the food off the burner.

His eyes flick back to me, clearly waiting for me to divulge details about my only sibling. There’s part of me that wants him to work for it a little more though.

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