Page 56 of All We Need

It’s a mesmerizing sound.Evenlovelier to witness.

Leaning against the window,Idrink her in.Iftoday is all we get before it’s back to reality, thenIdon’t want to waste a second. “Hey,Silver?”

Swiping at her lashes, still grinning, she turns to me. “Yeah?”

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?Wordon the street is the chef is quite talented.Andhandsome.”

Her smile slowly retreats but doesn’t completely disappear.Itlingers on her blushing face and mixes with the indecisiveness swirling in her expression.

I pluck a damp curl off her shoulder and tap her on the nose with it, eliciting a scowl that holds zero malice. “Wecansplit the bill at the end.Don’tmake it weird.I’mnot your type, remember?”

With a parting wink,Isaunter into the kitchen and pull out the ingredients for mac and cheese.

She doesn’t respond, thoughIhear the rustling of clothes behind me asImince the garlic.Ideserve ten gold stars for not taking a peek over my shoulder.

A few minutes later, she joins me beside the stove and peers around my shoulder.She’sin those goddamn pajamas again.Theones that are etched into my brain for an eternity.Well, second to the sight of her out of them.

“What’s cooking?”Hertone is more relaxed compared to earlier.

My knife hovers above a clove asIlook down at her, frowning. “Yousaid it wrong.”

“Huh?”

“It’s ‘What’scookin’, good lookin’?’Pfft, you’ve got a way to go around these parts,MissArgiros.”

She flicks me on the ear before hopping onto the counter. “Inyour dreams.”

You sure are.

Distracting myself—because my 180-degree feelings are making me woozy—Ifinish up the garlic and get started on the roux. “There’sonly one right answer to this question, so choose wisely.”Ilean in, voice low. “Doyou like lobster?”

A dark brow arches. “Ofcourse.”

“Good girl.Maybeone dayI’llcook you that tuna tartare you love so much.Now, pass me that stick of butter, and in that cabinet behind your head, you should find some all-purpose flour.”

She passes me the ingredients from her spot, and we work in tandem, throwing digs and joking until the smell of gooey cheddar and nutty gruyère floats in the air.

Seated around the small dinner table, we eat in silence,sharing fleeting looks between bites.It’snice, peaceful.Andperhaps the most domesticated thingI’veever done.

Once the dishes are done, and our eyes grow heavy, we stare at the bed.

I hook a thumb over my shoulder. “I’llleave you to it.Wouldn’twant you crossing the danger zone again.”

She climbs in, then tosses a pillow at my head. “Getin, you goof.SpooningisPGafter this morning’s show.”

I swearItry not to smile too wide asIslide in beside her.

“Sweet dreams,Silver.”

“Good night,Dimples.”

Sadly, no boundaries are crossed in the middle of the night.

Pretty hard when there’s only one person in the bed.

I pretend to be asleep while she shuffles around.Whenthe front door clicks shut and her engine starts,Istare up at the ceiling.Alittle disappointed, but mostly feeling like a fool.

Who knows how much time passes beforeIdrag myself out of bed.

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