Page 12 of One More Chance
“I really want that grilled cheese with pickles,” he says, holding up a paper bag full of what I can only assume are the ingredients.
I glance down at my phone and it’s ten-thirty. He wants a grilled cheese this late? “As a bedtime snack?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and folding my arms over my chest.
“To be fair, neither of us are sleeping,” he says.
I grab the bag of items from him and look inside. Everything for the sandwiches seems to be there. I motion for him to follow me to the kitchen and tuck my phone into the pocket of my sweatpants.
When we’re downstairs, I pull a pan from the cupboard and start warming it. He sits and watches me carefully butter the slices of bread then sit them aside. I hear my phone ding again and realize the app has its own set of sounds.
“Do you need to get that?” he asks, his arms crossed over his chest now, a smirk on his lips.
“No, it can wait.”
“I hear those dating app guys can get impatient.” He chuckles.
I shoot a look in his direction. “How did you know?”
“First, everyone knows that alert tone. Second, I’ve been on that app.”
“Any luck?” I ask, finding myself curious as to what kind of girls he’d be looking for on there.
“It’s served its purpose from time to time,” he says.
Ew.That sounds mildly…ew. “Oh. So you’re a player?”
“No?” he says, his words falling out more like a question than an answer and I wonder if he knows if he is or not.
I place the pickles on the melting cheese and then the other slice of bread on top. Then I flip the two sandwiches over, revealing the other side to be golden brown. I smile at myself and my good job. I give the other side of the sandwiches a few minutes, then lift them from the pan and place them on the plate.
I turn and extend the plate to Jensen. “Your snack,” I say, smiling at him.
“Oh, you’re having one,” he says. He sits down at the table and rubs his hands together. I sit across from him and wait for him to take a bite. He reaches for his sandwich but then gestures for me to reach for mine.
I roll my eyes and pick up the sandwich.
“Okay, at the same time. Ready?” he says excitedly.
I nod, readying my sandwich in front of my mouth. We both bite into our sandwiches at the same time and I watch his eyes grow big then sort of roll back, and he makes a moaning sound in the back of his throat.
I’d be lying if I said that noise wasn’t extremely sexual and extremely distracting. “Does it always sound like you’re having sex with your food?”
“Only when my food is making love to me,” he says, and then he winks at me.
For a moment, I think that’s stupid. Who even winks anymore? Then I realize he can actually pull off winking. Then, I get distracted wondering how long it’s been since someone winked at me, and I can’t remember ever being winked at by anyone other than Charles—during my freshman year of high school. At the time, Charles definitely couldn’t pull off winking.
“Thirsty?” I offer.
“Parched,” he says.
I get up to grab us some glasses of lemonade, if only to avoid having to make eye contact with him for a few moments. Then I sit back down and I watch him guzzle half the glass. I look to his plate and realize his entire sandwich is gone. Jesus, does he have a tapeworm?
“Do they feed you where you’re from?” I ask him, laughing.
“Of course. I just really like your signature sandwich,” he says, laughing in return.
His gaze settles on my plate. I look down and see I’ve only eaten a quarter of my sandwich. As I glance back up at him, it’s obvious he’s salivating.
“Do you want the rest of mine?” I ask, watching his features immediately perk up. I hand my plate to him and watch him dig in. It’s satisfying to watch someone like something you made this much.