Chapter 20

 

 

 

Luke

 

 

What a fucking difference a week makes.

It’s been that long since I last saw Afton. We’ve shared a few texts back and forth, but those were centered on when we could align our schedules for the much-anticipated cooking lesson.

I’m the one anticipating it. I have no idea how she feels about it.

I’ve been working solid twelve-hour shifts for days, but I’ve found time to daydream about her.

We’re set to meet up in twenty minutes at her place, and I’m damn excited.

I’m freshly shaved, showered, and I’m sporting a new shirt.

I picked it up this morning since I have the day off.

It’s nothing special. It’s a crisp white button-down with blue stripes running through it.

Locking my apartment door behind me, I take off down the six flights of stairs in a sprint.

My phone chimes just as I reach the sidewalk outside my building.

I glance down. An easy grin settles on my lips.

Afton:I picked up an apron for you today. I think you’ll like what’s printed across the front of it.

Taking off toward the nearest subway stop, I type out a quick response.

Luke:What’s printed on it?

I maneuver around the heavy midtown Manhattan foot traffic as my gaze volleys from the screen of my phone to the sidewalk in front of me.

Afton:You’ll see soon enough.

Clutching my phone in my hand, I descend the steps to the subway stop two at a time. Once I’m on the platform waiting for the train, I craft a reply.

Luke:I’m going to stop to get sparkling water and candy. Anything else?

I debated buying a bottle of wine earlier, but I don’t see the need. I’ve got the next three days off, and I want to spend them lucid and fully aware.

I’m also hoping that Afton will be able to squeeze in more time with me before I’m back on duty at the end of the week.

I drop my gaze when my phone vibrates in my hand. The rumble of the approaching train drowns the chime that accompanies it.

Afton:I have everything you need here.

With people pushing past me to board the train, I read her message twice before I notice the three dots bouncing around, signaling that she’s typing again.

I step onto the train, grabbing hold of a pole to steady my stance.

I glance down when another text message pops onto my phone’s screen.

Afton:I meant that I have everything we need here to make the pasta.

That might be what she meant, but her first response hit me in an unexpected way.

It felt right.

I’m beginning to wonder if she is indeed everything I need at this moment in time. Since I met Afton, I’ve barely thought about Brooklyn, and I have to admit, it’s a good feeling.

I can’t say the same about Auggie. I replay our moments together over and over in my mind with the hope that one day, I’ll get another chance to tell him how much he means to me.

 

***

 

I hand Afton the bottle of sparkling water and roll of candies as soon as she opens the door to her home. Then, with an exaggerated sweep of my hand, I produce a small bouquet of pink roses from behind my back. “For you.”

A smile lights up her face. “For me?”

Pushing them at her, I can’t help but smile too. “You got me a gift, so I wanted to return the favor.”

Her eyes hone in on mine. “That wasn’t necessary, Luke, but thank you. I’m going to put these in water.”

She turns to make her way toward the kitchen. I follow at a snail’s pace because my view is stellar. She’s wearing cut-off jean shorts and a white backless blouse. Her dark hair is gathered into a high ponytail.

From every conceivable angle, she’s without a doubt one of the most breathtaking women I’ve ever met.

She glances over her shoulder to toss me a smile.

Scratch that…sheisthe most breathtaking woman I’ve ever met.

“Your apron is in the bag on the coffee table.” She motions toward a blue paper bag with twine handles. “I had it specially made just for you.”

That goes above and beyond the bouquet of six sad looking roses that I grabbed at the bodega around the corner. I make a mental note to stop at Wild Lilac the next time I see her. It’s the floral shop I usually go to when I buy peonies for Marti.

I tug the twine handles apart and dip my hand into the bag.

“Try it on,” Afton calls from the kitchen as she glances my way. “I’m going to put these in a vase.”

She turns and reaches into a cupboard. I watch, mesmerized, by the way the hem of her shorts inches up when she reaches above her head to the top shelf.

I’d offer to help retrieve the glass vase she’s going for, but I’m enjoying watching her way too fucking much.

Once she’s got it in her hand, I go back to what I’m supposed to be doing.

I tug the dark blue apron out, instantly noticing that the tag on it indicates it’s a medium.

I’m six five and weigh in at around two hundred if I’m on track with diet and working out.

I don’t want to rain on Afton’s gift parade, so I loop the apron around my neck before I tie it a couple of inches above my waist.

“How do I look?” I call out to her.

Her gaze trails from the flowers to me before her mouth falls open. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “It’s snug. I’m a pretty big guy.”

Her hand leaps in the air so she can point a finger at me. “Oh no…Luke…I wouldn’t. That’s not…”

I finally glance down at the front of the apron. I may be reading what’s stamped across it from the wrong angle, but the message is clear.

Uncontrollable laughter rolls out of me.

I don’t know Afton well, but something tells me she didn’t specially order this apron for me.

“Eat my meat,” I recite what’s written in bold white lettering on the apron.

“No,” Afton snaps the word out in the middle of a giggle. “That’s not supposed to be there.”

I tug it closer to my chest. “It doesn’t suit me?”

Her gaze darts up to meet mine. “I didn’t say that. I mean it’s…I’m sure that your meat tastes…wait, no…I wanted to say that…”

I save her from stumbling over more words. “I take it that this isn’t my apron?”

She rushes toward me. “I picked it up this afternoon. I gave the woman working at the novelty shop my name. She went into the storeroom to grab it for me.”

I watch as she picks up the gift bag to read the attached tag. “Neil Affer.”

That sets my head back in laughter. “I guess Neil Affer is looking for someone to eat his meat.”

A blush creeps up her cheeks as she laughs along with me. “The apron I ordered for you was a large, and it said Chef Luke on it.”

“I’m going to keep this one.” I pat the front of the apron I’m wearing. “Neil Affer is on his own.”

Slapping a hand over mine, Afton looks into my eyes. “I’m sorry for the mix-up.”

I stare at her. “I’m not. It’s fucking funny, and I needed the laugh.”

She tilts her head to study my face. “Are you ready to cook?”

If it means a few more hours with her, I’m ready for anything. Nodding, I scoop her hand into mine. “Absolutely.”