Page 49 of Tall, Dark, & Ginger

I laugh at that. “I always hated my hair growing up. I hated my freckles.”

“I hope you’re over that now, because you’re fucking hot. For what it’s worth, Wren, if I was the kind of guy who wanted picket fences, I’d lock you down so fast your head would spin. I just don’t know if I am that guy.”

I nod, absorbing his words. His honesty is refreshing, but… “I’m not sure what I want anymore. I don’t know if it’s picketfences or random hookups, but I know that—” I stop myself again, but Ridley squeezes my arm.

“Go on. Tell me what you want, and if I can give it to you, I will.”

I clear my throat. “I want this. More of this with you. Whatever this is. It’s enough for now. More than enough. If you want that too. I promise not to fall in love or get weird.”

He smiles, reaching over to brush my hair off my forehead. “I’m not sure we can promise not to fall in love. I don’t think that’s how it works.”

My chest tightens. “Right.”

“I’ll be honest, Wren, I’m a little scared. I like you, a lot, and I love what we do together. I want more too.”

He doesn’t have to tell me why it scares him. He could fall and I could leave, or the opposite could happen. Either of us could meet someone tomorrow who checks all the boxes, and we’d have to watch the other move on before we’re ready. We share the same fear.

“We said at the beginning we’d just see how it goes.”

Ridley nods. “Yeah.”

“So we keep doing that, right? We just do what feels good and see how it goes.”

The wrinkle in Ridley’s brow flattens and he smiles. “I can do that.”

“Me too.”

He rolls closer, kissing me softly. “What would feel good to me right now is getting some food.”

I laugh softly. “I could eat.”

“Will you stay? Will you hang out?”

This is the danger zone. The hanging out together, talking, opening up. But I don’t think anything could drag me out of here right now.

“I’ll hang out.”

NINETEEN

RIDLEY

Wrenand I slip quietly down the stairs to go to the kitchen. The house is pretty quiet—it normally is on Sunday—and I sense Wren’s relief at not running into the guys when leaving my suite.

In the kitchen, he goes right to the fridge, peering inside and pulling out ingredients. “Bacon and eggs work for you?”

“Hell yeah.” I sit on a stool at the island. “Need help?”

Wren just chuckles as if that was the dumbest question ever. I watch him crack eggs into a skillet before he starts laying out bacon strips.

“When did you decide to be a chef?”

He glances up at me, then back at the bacon. “I knew I loved cooking in high school, but I wasn’t confident enough to pursue it professionally. I went to college for two years before ditching that path and getting a job in an office doing customer service work. That’s how I met Salem eventually. It was during a really annoying customer call one day that I made the decision to follow my dreams. I used some money I had saved to apply to culinary school.”

“Are you happy with your decision?”

His face lights up. “I am. I love it. It’s one of the most tangible ways to make people happy. Food is celebratory and joyful. Itcan also be healing and comforting. I feel like it’s a calling for me.”

“I agree. Your food is really top notch.”

---