Page 6 of Drawn to You
While I’m still daydreaming, Andrew finishes the rest of the salad with the spicy dressing with no trouble, although his forehead and nose are coated with a layer of sweat. “I think you put too much dressing, Britt,” he says after gulping down all his beer.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it would be so spicy!” Feeling guilty, I reach to wipe his forehead with the back of my fingers.
His eyes widen at first and then darken. I pause when I realize what I’m doing is too intimate, and then Andrew catches my wrist.
Our eyes lock, and I freeze. I wait breathlessly for what he’ll do next.
His breathing turns audibly uneven, but he doesn’t move.
“I’m sorry,” I say, attempting to withdraw my hand.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. He doesn’t let go of my hand but rubs it on his cheek. “You got soft hands, Britt.”
My thighs squeeze at his raspy voice, his intense eyes, and the warmth of his cheek. Why doesn’t he let go of my hand? Is he perhaps drunk?
Andrew finally lets go of my hand, but not without kissing the back of it first. Oh my! I feel as if I were in a trance. What just happened? Did he kiss my hand? I thought people only did that in movies—old movies.
I blink out of my stupor and get up quickly, taking the plates and the glass to the sink. Andrew lets me wash them while sitting at the table silently to finish his beer.
“Would you like some dessert?” he says when he comes over to rinse his glass. “I don’t have any cheese cakes, but I’ve got wheat crackers.”
I chuckle a little, thinking it isn’t my idea of dessert at all.
“I have apples too.”
“Sure, I’ll have some.”
Andrew peels an apple and slices it to two, and we each take half.
“Do you always make your dinner for yourself?” I ask between bites.
“Not always, but most of the time, yeah. I try to eat healthily, and the surest way is to make my own meals.”
I raise my eyebrows, impressed.
“But I don’t expect you to eat the same food as I do every day. We could eat out sometimes. I could also cook chicken or fish. I have a griller in the yard.”
“Sure thing,” I grin. “I like salad. I used to eat it often. But I like barbeque, too.”
“You do?” he grins. “You know what? We should have a party on Labor Day. Connor will be in town.”
“Sounds good!” I say. Connor is Andrew’s best friend in high school and Dana’s crush back then. “We could probably tell Dana’ to come too?”
He hesitates. “I’ll try, but you know my sister. She hates LA.”
I laugh. “Yes, she does. But maybe she’ll agree to come because I’m here.”
Andrew wipes his hand on the towel and turns off the light. “What’s your plan for the rest of the evening? It’s only eight.”
I consider. “Not much except calling Dana.”
“You’re welcome to watch TV. I’ve got Netflix and Prime.”
“Great.”
I’m brushing my teeth when my phone chimes, and it’s Dana. I answer it quickly.
“Hi Dana, I was about to call you,” I say before rinsing my mouth.
