Page 93 of Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places
“I don’t think so either.”
His hand tightened on her knee—an interesting contrast to the small, delicate circles his thumb made on her thigh. She closed the distance between them with a quick kiss.
“Will you come to Hennessee?”
His eyes tightened in discomfort. “I can’t sleep there.”
She felt like she needed a break. To reset her priorities and get back in tune with her objectives. One night away wouldn’t hurt anything.
“Can we stop at the store before we go to your place?”
29
In the moment, Lucky might not have fully considered what spending the night at Maverick’s house would entail.
Her boyfriend asked. She said yes. And now she was standing like an awkward penguin in the middle of his kitchen while he prepped the counter to make donuts.
“What’s wrong?” he asked over his shoulder. “This should be easy for you.”
“I don’t cook. I perfect making other people’s recipes and reuse them until the family’s kids want something new. Then I learn some more.”
Maverick smiled against her lips as his arms slid around her waist. “Ah, your secret revealed.” He almost always smiled right before he kissed her. “What is it?”
She rested her forehead against his. “Nothing.”
“I know when you’re upset. Tell me.”
She grabbed loose fistfuls of his shirt to keep herself in the moment. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“About?”
“Right now. I’ve been trying to figure out what we’re doing, and I can’t.”
He pulled back in confusion. “You don’t want to make donuts?”
“I do. That’s…fine. But we’re here. Alone. For once. With nowhere to go. And you’re not—” She took a breath. “I’m asexual.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Uh. Okay.”
“I don’t always read situations like this correctly. I’m not sure if you’re waiting for me to make the first move or if I’m supposed to be forward and do it or if you don’t want to at all. We don’t have to. I just—I don’t like feeling confused about this.”
“Okay. I hear you,” he said. “So, didIdo something to make you confused?”
She sighed. “Please don’t get mad at me because I didn’t pick up on sexy time signals or whatever. You have to tell me. I know that’s not hot or even romantic, but that’s what works for me. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He rubbed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I would never get mad at you for that. I take it that’s happened before?”
She nodded, unable to look at him. She used to have sex with her ex-boyfriend Louis whenever he wanted. Whether she enjoyed it was as predictable as a coin toss. Not that he cared. But that still wasn’t enough becauseshenever brought it up or initiated it, which he said was “really weird.”
So, Lucky did what she always did and researched. Turns out, she wasn’t weird—she was asexual. And she began to suspect she didn’t like Louis as much as she had convinced herself she had.
Maverick gently raised her chin. “Donuts aren’t a code for anything. I need to use the dough before it goes bad. I figured we would make them, relax, maybe watch a movie, and then go from there. That’s honestly as far as I got. I didn’t invite you here to necessarily have sex. My only goal was to spend time with you.”
She almost always kissed him as fast and desperate as she felt.
So, they made donuts. He stood behind her as he taught her how, guiding her hands with his as they rolled the dough, cut them into near-perfect shapes, and mixed the filling while they proofed. His kitchen filled with the smell of the warm oil, the crackling bubble of the dough frying, the sweet cinnamon sugar they dusted on top. Her favorite.
Afterward, they settled on the couch wrapped in a blanket. He reclined backward, one leg up and the other bent at the knee, his foot on the floor. She nestled half on top of him, half squeezed into the sliver of space between him and the couch. His arm curved around her back, holding her firmly against him. Every few minutes, he’d kiss the top of her forehead and she nuzzled his jaw in return. Perfectly warm. Perfectly happy.
