Page 127 of Rush of Jealousy

“I just want you to have finer things than five for ten dollar boxed meals.”

I shrug and continue searching for what we came here for in the first place. Yes, there it is—frozen pizza. Yum.

“Do you have a preference on toppings?” I ask, scoping out the section.

“Get whatever makes you happy.”

“Extra pepperoni it is. Ohhh, they have the cute, cubed pepperonis!”

Graham smiles at my excitement and helps me load up the cart. We move to the self-checkout lane, pay, and are settled back into the car with ease.

When we get to the penthouse, I dig in the bags for my candy and can’t find it anywhere.

“Did we forget—” I stop when I see Graham pull the variety bag out from behind his back.

“Hey, candy thief! That’s mine!”

“You have to earn it,” he says smugly.

“You’re holding my candy for ransom?”

“I’m keeping it safe.”

I eye him suspiciously. “Until when?”

“Until you tell me about your day. Leave out no details.”

“I, um…” Why is this so hard for me to do? It is just my day.

He tilts my chin up and leans me back against the island. “This is what people do in relationships, sweetheart.” He kisses me on the forehead. “We talk about our day and spend time together.”

I nod my head. It is still so foreign to me to even consider Graham as my boyfriend. But that is what he is. My boyfriend.

“Can you start first?”

“Nope. You need to get used to sharing your life with me, baby.”

“Okay, fine. I woke up to the sound of your moving company truck opening its doors, I went on a job interview, I chatted with Zander, and then Claire tricked me into trying a pole dancing class at the gym.”

“Wow. So many things to unpack and ask follow-up questions on,” he says, preheating the oven, pulling out a cooking stone, and unboxing the pizza.

“Can we not?” I groan. “I just want to move on to the part where you tell me about your day.”

“Why is this so hard for you to do?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I honestly don’t know. But it’s all still new to me. Me being here. You caring enough to ask me about my day. Us sharing space together, doing mundane things.”

“We share and will be sharing a lot more than space.”

I laugh over his playful eyes. “True. So, what else do you want to know?”

“How did your interview go?” he asks, putting the pizza into the oven.

“I had to make a bunch of drinks for customers—including the manager. It worked out well, despite my nerves over messing up. But in the end, I got the job.”

He nods his head. I can tell he is not thrilled by my choice in work, but he is refraining from expressing his dislike verbally. “What will your schedule look like?”

“I think I will just be working Mondays and Tuesdays. Few hours after class each day.”

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