Page 38 of Catch Me
Without a shirt on, the muscles in his back were visible. As he stretched his arms to the sides, I watched them engage, along with his shoulders. The sun was still hovering above the trees, so the light shone on his hair, bringing out the highlights. When he lifted one leg and flattened his foot against the inside of his thigh, my eyes fell to his ass.
Anyone would notice. Travis was attractive. More than attractive. He was hot.Sexy, as some of his commenters said. Often.
Tessa looked up and cocked her head at me, so I rushed back into the kitchen. A timer started going off, which gave me an excuse to peek at the food in the oven. It was meat, but that was the only thing I could determine.
When he didn’t come inside, I bit my lip. He was the one cooking, so he should have it under control, right? During that LIVE, he mentioned that he got distracted easily.
I stepped onto the deck and cleared my throat. He turned around, looking surprised to see me.
“There’s a timer going off.”
“Shit,” he muttered as he rushed inside.
I watched him crouch to pull the dish out of the oven. When he was standing again, he crossed one ankle behind the other and stuck a thermometer into the meat.
“Did you forget you were cooking?” I asked lightheartedly.
“No.”
Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I stared at his back. When I realized that was a bad idea, I shifted my eyes to the window. I considered drawing the sunset again, but it didn’t feel interesting to me right now.
I noticed that he’d turned around, so I looked at him, only to find him studying me.
“What?” I asked more venomously than I’d intended.
“You sounded civilized a minute ago. Now you don’t. I just never know who I’m getting when I talk to you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Should I have let your food burn?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Must be the ADHD.”
His head cocked, which made my stomach lurch. “Wonder where you heard that.”
“You mentioned it.”
“I don’t think I did. Not to you.”
“Well, it’s not hard to guess. My stepbrother has it.”
“Tilian?” He laughed before he turned back to the food. “Yeah, I see that. Get past his shell and he’s a ball of unfiltered chaos. Love that dude.”
I casually sat on a stool at the island and laid my palms on my thighs. “He doesn’t take anything. It makes his anxiety worse and he says he just doesn’t mind the way his brain works. Is that how you are?”
He leaned back against the counter and flipped a serving spoon around with his fingers. It reminded me of the way they spun lightsabers in Star Wars.
“I don’t medicate.”
“Why?” He looked annoyed by the question, so I shook my head. “You can ignore that.”
With a sigh, he came closer and leaned his forearms on the counter, just across the island from me. “Will you be agreeable for the rest of the day if I tell you?”
My lips twitched. “Sure.”
“I get angry easily. It started when I was thirteen, got worse when my mom died, peaked when I was fifteen. Stimulants heighten it, and sometimes, they actually make me tired. I don’t like either of those things, so I’ve just learned to manage, and I do fine.”
“Except when you burn food.”
