Page 29 of Give Me Forever

Chapter Eight

Avery

The first week of livingwith Sam went by in a breeze. The man was almost never at home. I'd successfully managed to avoid seeing him naked when he came out of the shower.

Though I did take a delicious peek when he'd gone to the kitchen one evening late at night. He'd only had a towel wrapped around his waist as he made himself a sandwich, and I'd spied on those gorgeous abs of his. Only from a distance, of course. I’d stopped on the staircase when I noticed he was in the living room. But even from a distance, it was obvious his body was very toned. The lines of his abs and arms were extremely well defined.

During the day, I had the loft all to myself. I spent the entire week building up my Etsy store. It was a completely different beast from owning my own website, but anything I built would look amateur, and I didn’t have money to hire a pro to do it.

I hoped that directing my current clients to the shop was going to kick-start the algorithms. One could only hope. I was very positive about it.

I’d also emailed half a dozen factories. I needed someone to produce my designs, after all. Not that I was working on designing much these days. I’d made an account on Fiverr, a website dedicated to pairing freelancers with customers, offering my design services. I’d done a few courses of general graphic design, so I was hoping to make some money with that too.

At seven o’clock, I closed my laptop. I'd had enough for one day. My eyes were dry and burning. I rapidly blinked a few times until they felt better.

I headed to the kitchen, inspecting Sam’s schedule on the fridge.Wait, he wasn’t on call last evening?As far as I could tell, he hadn’t been home. But according to the sheet, he’d been free yesterday and was on call today.

I took out a prewashed packaged salad and tossed it into a bowl. It was my trick for eating more veggies. I put in sun-dried tomatoes and artichokes dipped in olive oil, then dumped precooked garbanzo beans in it. I was just drizzling balsamic vinegar over it when the front door opened, and Sam came in.

"Hey, you're home," I said.

He looked utterly exhausted. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders seemed to have a heavy weight pressing on them. "Last evening was a clusterfuck, and I had to stay, so they gave me tonight off instead."

He groaned, dipping his head back. I had the greatest urge to reach out and give him a neck or shoulder rub or something. Oh dear Lord, my brain was coming up with the most inventive excuses to touch him. But I was determined to be on my best behavior. Living with Sam was easy when he wasn't at home. But every time we were in the same room, my entire body simmered.

"I made a salad. We can share it. It's huge."

He looked at it suspiciously. "Beans and green leaves?"

"Yeah, I know. It's super healthy, right?"

"Why did you make so much?"

"I thought about keeping some for tomorrow at lunch, but as I said, I'm happy to share."

He nodded. "I'll take you up on that. Thanks." He drummed his fingers on the kitchen counter. They were so long and sexy.

Brain, stop. Fingers aren't sexy. It's simply not a thing.

"Do you mind waiting a bit? I want to take a shower to freshen up."

"Sure. I'm not starving and don’t mind waiting at all," I said. "I was going to make some toast as well, if you want some."

"Thanks. I’d really appreciate that. Good to see you." He leaned in, kissing my cheek.

I sucked in a breath because it had been totally unexpected. Feeling his lips on my cheek sent my senses into overdrive. I held my breath as he straightened up, winking at me.

“Damn, I forgot to take the laundry out of the dryer,” he said as he went into the bathroom at the bottom of the staircase.

I took out a pan and was determined to keep my eyes on it. The washing machine and dryer were in a small room behind the kitchen, so after he was done showering, he’d pass right in front of me.

That's okay, Avery. Stay cool as a cucumber.

I put a bit of butter on the toast—in my humble opinion, butter made everything a million times better. Then I set the table. I moved my notebook to the edge of it, since I’d taken up the dining room table as my office. Even though I had a desk in the bedroom, there was simply more space and light here.

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