Chapter Fourteen
My phone rings. I pick it up to see who it is and I’m a little taken
aback. It’s the first time Ryle has ever called me. We always just text.
How odd to have a boyfriend for over three months that I’ve never
once spoken to on the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, girlfriend,” he says.
I smile cheesily at the sound of his voice. “Hey, boyfriend.”
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“I’m taking the day off tomorrow. Your floral shop doesn’t open
until one o’clock on Sundays. I’m on my way to your apartment with
two bottles of wine. You want to have a sleepover with your boyfriend
and have drunken sex all night and sleep until noon?”
It’s really embarrassing what his words do to me. I smile and say,
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“I’m cooking you dinner. And I’m wearing an apron.”
“Oh yeah?” he says.
“Just an apron.” And then I hang up.
A few seconds later, I get a text message.
Ryle: Pic, please.
Me: Get over here and you can take the picture yourself.
I’m almost finished preparing the casserole mixture when the door
opens. I pour it into the glass pan and don’t turn around when I hear
him walk into the kitchen. When I said I was just wearing an apron, I
meant it. I’m not even wearing panties.
I can hear him suck in a rush of air when I reach over to the oven
and stick the casserole inside. I might reach a little too far for show
when I do it. When I close the oven, I don’t face him. I grab a rag and
start wiping down the oven, making sure to sway my hips as much as