“I hate to break it to you, but sparkling water tastes like feet no matter the temperature,” he whispers in my ear before backing away and forcing me to lose the comfort of having his heat against my back. “And I have no idea what the fuck charcuterie is.”
I turn around with a log of salami in my hand, prepared to use it as a weapon against him for slandering sparkling water and being as old as he is and not knowing what a charcuterie board is. I mean, it’s the age of Instagram! Doesn’t everyone post pictures of their boards? There’s no excuse.
However, all of my wrath fades to black with my first look at him.
Now listen, I’ve seen this man shoeless and in gray sweatpants more times than I can count. I’m pretty sure it’s his outfit of choice, one that I fully stand behind and support. But right now, he’s not in his standard home uniform. He’s dressed in actual adult man clothes and holy fuck if it doesn’t make my thighs clench together.
I feel like an athlete’s build helps determine their position. Linemen are bigger, tight ends are taller, but still bulky in muscle. But quarterbacks. My, my, my. Quarterbacks. Quinton is tall and lean, but not bulky at all. I’m sure he’s been told he’s built like a basketball player many times in his life. And it’s a build that wears dress pants and a tucked-in, button-up shirt so well that it actually robs me of my ability to speak. His dark gray pants were clearly altered to fit him just right. Snug around his thighs and slim cut all the way down to his ankles. I really want to make him turn around because I know his butt looks amazing.
But the pinnacle of this casual yet authoritative look, the part that just makes me want to scream “Yassss zaddy!” is the way he’s taken the time to roll his sleeves up to his elbows. If you ask me, the most underrated part of the male body is the forearm. I don’t know what it is, but seeing Quinton’s forearms out, covered in just the right amount of hair and a fantastic watch, is the fantasy I never knew I had.
“Damn.” I stare with my mouth hanging so wide open, I could catch flies, pointing a salami at him. “You look so hot.”
The best thing about him kissing me last night is that I can finally say things like that aloud and stare at him until my heart is content.
“Thank you.” He quirks the corner of his mouth before letting his gaze trail down my body, pausing at the salami. “What’s going on with the meat stick?”
“Meat stick? Really?” It’s good to know that no matter how hot he looks, he’ll say things like that to bring me back to the reality that he’s human. A very hot, but still dorky, human. “It’s salami. I need a knife to slice it. You can open the rest of the packages so we can start building the board.”
He pulls a knife out of the drawer and puts it on the counter next to the cutting board I brought because I wasn’t sure he has one. “Would it be inappropriate to tell you how hot I think you are when you’re bossing me around?”
I roll up on my tiptoes and drop a chaste kiss on his lips. Because I can do that now too! Kissing is the best. “Considering I just referred to you as a zaddy in my head, I’m going to say no.”
“Zaddy?” he repeats after me before biting his lip and doing a terrible job at hiding his laughter.
“Anyways.” I glare at him. “Would there happen to be a spare Diet Coke in your fridge? You know I can’t work without one.”
“Maybe,” he says. “Let me check.”
He turns to walk away and as he does, Angela’s long legs and blonde hair flash in my mind. I know he’s said in the past that nothing is going on between them. But maybe he meant nothing like the nothing I’m reading into between us.
“Um, hey?” The confidence I felt only moments ago is gone and nerves have taken its place. I’m not saying I want to marry him or anything, but I would like to know if I’ve become an unintentional side chick. “I know you said nothing is going on between you and Angela, but the amount of sodas she forgets here says otherwise. Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you?”
“Angela? What? I work with Angela, she’s . . . well, I can’t really say what she is. But nothing has ever happened between me and her. I know me and you got off to a bad start, but I wouldn’t ever do what I did last night if I was seeing someone else.” He closes the fridge and walks back over to me to grab my hand. “Let me show you something.”
We hold hands as I follow him down the hallway and into his laundry room before he opens the door to his garage. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t getting more confused with every door he opens.
“Angela wasn’t leaving the soda. I honestly don’t even know if she drinks them.” He pulls me over until he stops in front of another, not nearly as nice fridge. “You always had a Diet Coke with you, so I started buying them when I’d go to the store. I keep them in here and then move one into the kitchen before you come over.”
I open my mouth to say something, but for the second time since I arrived, he has rendered me speechless. While I thought he was a jerk who hated me, he was going out of his way
