Page 84 of 1 Last Shot

Panic turns into another glare, and I canfeelthe heat in his voice. “I’m not your fuckingneighbor.”

My heartbeat catches in my chest. “No? What are you?”

He doesn’t answer, just continues to stare at me.

I turn back to the pasta to give him some space. After a minute, I hear a heavy sigh. “Isabella, I can’tstay. I just… Ican’t.”

I nod in understanding, already expecting that it was too much too soon. When I face him again, it’s with a smile.

“Okay. Thank you for helping me cook dinner. Do you want to try it before you go, since they’ll be here soon? Or were you lying about my abilities to cook something edible?”

“I would never lie to you,” he grumbles as he walks over to where the meal isn’t burn-your-mouth hot anymore. I cut off a piece and lift the fork toward him, but he nudges it back in my direction. “You first.”

When my lips close around the bite of chicken, and my eyes widen in surprise, I realize Kane is staring at me with a smile that can only be described as adoring. And he doesn't look away when he sees I've noticed.

"Good?" he asks.

I nod, feeling a blush burn across my cheeks. "I think so. You try it now."

He doesn't make me wait, he just maneuvers a big bite of chicken onto his fork and then lifts it quickly to his mouth. And even though I'm almost one hundred percent certain that Kane reallyisn'tcapable of lying to me, I’m still more relieved than I want to admit when his expression softens into the one that people wear

when they're satisfied their food actually tastes good. Which is solidified when he immediately dives in for another bite.

"Congratulations, you just cooked a meal that is not only edible, but that actually tastes really good," he says around a mouthful.

I'm pretty sure my grin is about to split my face in half.

He sees it and chuckles, then leans over to press a kiss under my ear. “I’m going to go. Have fun with your parents. I’ll see you in the morning still?”

I nod, then lean in to kiss him again because I can’tnot.

But just before our lips touch, there’s a knock on my front door.

My eyes go wide. Kane’s go even wider.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “They’re early. I really didn’t think you’d have to see them if you didn’t want to. I’ll just tell them you came over for sugar or something.” I let out a nervous chuckle. “Isn’t that ironic? That’s why I came over toyourapartment at first.”

“Isabella,” he interrupts on a sigh. “I’m not scared of your parents. I just don’t expect them to like me. Open the door.”

Thatmakes me frown. “Why wouldn’t they—?”

Another knock sounds on my door. “Honey, we’re here! I know we’re early, but we couldn’t wait to see you.”

I’m too flustered by Kane’s comment to do anything but operate on autopilot. Striding over to the door, I open it to reveal my mom and dad on my doorstep.

“Hi, sweetheart,” my mom says, shifting the bottle of wine in her arms so she can press a kiss to each of my cheeks. My dad does the same, smiling as he steps past me. “You know, I don’t think I gave this part of the city enough credit the first time. We passed the loveliest little hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant on the way over here—"

She stops talking when she spots Kane. He’s standing in my kitchen, no longer looking panicked, but still looking entirely uncomfortable.

“Hello,” my mom greets with a smile. “I’m sorry, Isabella didn’t tell us someone would be joining us.”

“Mom, Dad, this is Kane,” I hurry to say, moving beside him to face my parents. “He’s a… friend.”

My dad doesn’t even hesitate. He steps up to Kane with a smile on his face and extends his hand. “Hi, Kane. I’m Jack, and this is my wife Marianne.”

Kane respectfully reaches forward and shakes his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. I’m sorry to intrude on your time with your daughter, I was just leaving.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” my mom asks. “Are you sure you can’t join us? We didn’t even know Isabella had made any friends down here. She’s not really a talker, so we have no idea what she’s been doing down here.”

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