Addicted to Love Page 5
“Nothing plain about it. There are too many colors to count.”
“So, you could stare into them all day?”
“Well, for a while anyhow.”
She laughed out loud then, her eyes dancing as she turned to face him. “I need to do things in here. Go do something else.”
Kyle gave her another kiss first. This time, she responded with welcome enthusiasm. Eventually, they parted and he twisted to look at the scratches on his back in the mirror. “I am going to get so razzed tomorrow,” he said with mock regret.
Lauren smiled. “I hope it was worth it.”
“Absolutely.”
“No secrets at F5?” She looked a little wary, so Kyle tried to reassure her.
“They’ll be pretty sure just how I got them, especially in the locker room, but I won’t mention any names.”
She turned away then and he wasn’t sure if he’d said the right thing or not.
“I could do without Ty taking offense,” he added, and she slanted a glance at him. “You have to know that I was warned off you and all his sisters.”
That seemed to amuse Lauren. “I didn’t.” She gave him a look. “It didn’t stop you before.”
“It was after we’d met. I figured history wasn’t relevant to the discussion.”
She considered him for a long moment and he wondered what she was thinking. “You were afraid of Ty?”
“I was afraid of losing his friendship.” It was the truth, but Kyle saw that he’d surprised her. “Remember that honesty is my best trick.”
She smiled, looking a little mischievous. “Maybe not your best trick.”
Kyle chuckled and their gazes held for a potent moment. He sizzled a bit, wanting her all over again, and refused to think about how unusual that was.
“Tell me some more.” Lauren invited. She folded her arms across her chest to watch him, probably having no idea how sexy the pose made her breasts look.
“I skipped out on our weekly board meeting at F5 tonight because you called.”
“Really?”
“Really. It’s a first.”
“Should I feel special?”
“You should know that you are.” Kyle was talking too much, that was for sure. But Lor looked happier, and that relieved him. He surrendered the bathroom to her as he went in search of clean clothes. He put on his jeans and a T-shirt, then opened the closet. He found the denim shirt he was looking for and returned to offer it to Lauren.
Her eyes lit in recognition as she took it from him. “I can’t believe you still have it.”
“They don’t wear out very fast.” He didn’t add that denim was particularly slow to wear out if it was never worn or washed.
“So, you’re giving it to me this time?”
“Lending it. Just like last time.” He grinned. “Still my best shirt.” He shook a finger at her. “It’s not leaving this apartment so don’t get any ideas.”
Instead of smiling back at him, she gave him an assessing glance. “Which implies that I’m not leaving, either.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. You said no one came here. I didn’t just come here—”
“Ha ha.”
“—but I’m being allowed to stay. What’s up with that?”
Kyle sidestepped the question and hoped she didn’t notice. “I’m hungry. Aren’t you?” It had to be because she knew his deal and she’d come anyway. It had to be because they understood each other and she wasn’t going to try to change him.
And he liked being with her. It was both easy and electric. It wouldn’t last, nothing did, but he didn’t want it to end sooner than necessary.
He wanted every minute they could have together.
Even if all those minutes were on this night.
“You could say we’ve worked up an appetite.” Lauren tugged on the shirt and rolled up the sleeves, looking just as adorable as she had before. Had it really been twelve years? If she’d pulled her hair into a ponytail, he wouldn’t have seen much difference—except her recent weight loss. She lifted her hands, inviting him to look, and smiled. “But this wouldn’t fit the dress code at many restaurants.”
“It does at the only one that matters.”
He was rewarded with another slow smile, one that heated him to his toes. His earlier comment about not being ready for a repeat performance seemed to have been a lie.
“Let me guess—you get room service on Wednesdays, too.”
“Grocery delivery,” Kyle confirmed. “There’s something about a smart woman that is just irresistible. Step into my kitchen.” He led the way and she followed him, her curiosity tangible.
“What’s on the menu Chez Kyle?”
“If I’m right, there’s some fresh fish and vegetables in the fridge.” He turned on a few lights en route to the kitchen, well aware that Lauren was looking at his place. It was simply furnished but comfortable, or at least he thought so.
“I don’t remember you cooking before. We got take-out.”
“We were at a hotel on spring break.”
“But I’ve never heard that you cooked.” She retrieved her panties from the living room and put them on before following him to the kitchen. He watched her make an appraising survey of his apartment.
“A guy has to learn some new tricks over the years.”
“You already showed me one.”
“That was improv.”
Lauren clapped her hands. “A superb performance.”
“A command performance.” He grinned when she laughed again, then checked the contents of the fridge. “I was right. How about grilled halibut with vegetables and basmati rice?”
“Sounds good. What can I do to help?”
“Talk to me.”
“Open the wine?”
“No wine. It’s Wednesday.” Kyle realized that sounded rude. “Unless you want some.”
“I wouldn’t mind.”
And she could use the calories. Years of watching his weight and his diet meant that Kyle knew the calorie count of just about every consumable there was—as well as how much time in the gym it would take to work it off. He had a bottle of white wine so he opened it, then poured Lauren a glass. She’d taken a seat on one of the bar stools on the opposite side of the counter.
“Thank you. You sure I can’t help?”
“You’re officially being pampered tonight.”
“Works for me.” She sipped, nodded appreciatively and put down the glass. “Why no wine on Wednesdays?”
“Because it bites getting older. My metabolism is slowing a little and my workout time is maxed out.” Kyle patted his gut, liking how hard it was beneath his T-shirt. “I can’t afford the calories, so alcohol is a weekend indulgence.” If then. He laid out the fish, put on the water for the rice and diced vegetables. He turned on the grill.
“It’s all about the machine.”
“A lot of it is. Kind of like your hair.” He cast her a glance and she smiled acknowledgment. “My body is part of the image of F5. It’s marketing, in a way. But then, you were in Times Square. You saw that.”
“Yes, I did happen to notice you naked and twenty stories high.” She took another sip of her wine.
“Not quite naked.”
“How much digital touch-up?”
“I’m proud to say almost none. But then, I killed myself prepping for that shoot. Eight weeks of training.” Kyle shook his head. “Damon was merciless.”
“It shows.”
“Thanks. Damon is prepping for the next one and I’m coaching him, so what goes around comes around. He’s going to be huge.”
“And Ty?”
“He won’t do it. He insists he’s more of a silent partner. I’m waiting for Theo to get back and start harassing him about it.”
“And Cassie comes up with the slogans?”
“Yes. Damon will be Get Hard at F5, and pumped up like a rock. She wants Ty and Amy to be together with Get Lucky at F5.”
“That’s cu
te.”
“Amy likes it, but Ty’s all grumpy about defending their privacy.”
Lauren laughed. “I can see that. He really can be a bear sometimes. Maybe suggest that they wear their rings, so there’s no doubt about their intentions.”
“Hey, that’s a good idea.” Kyle smiled. “I’ll use it as a peace offering if you don’t mind.”
“For ducking out tonight for me.”
“Yup.”
“Why did you do that?”
“You called.”
“No.” Lauren put down the glass and looked so intent that Kyle wanted to squirm. “I called but you agreed. I didn’t really expect that. You invited me here, even though you said no one comes here, and I sure didn’t expect that. I thought you’d chuck me out right afterward, but you’re making me dinner, which goes way beyond any possibility of expectations on my part. Who are you and what have you done with Kyle Stuyvesant?”
“Disappointed?”
“No. Perplexed.”
Kyle put the fish on the grill and turned on the fan overhead. “Even I don’t like to eat alone,” he said, which was about five percent of the truth.
“You’re going to have me thinking that you were telling the truth at the wine bar.”
A cold hand clenched in Kyle’s gut, but Lauren’s tone was playful, indicative that she didn’t really give his confession any credit. It was probably just as well. He wouldn’t be able to deliver on a relationship. He knew his limits.
He matched her tone when he answered. “Once just didn’t seem like enough today and I thought you were feeling the same way.”
“Once is never enough,” Lauren said and Kyle noticed a challenge edging into her voice. “In fact, I could get used to being pampered like this. How about tomorrow night? Same time, same place? Third time the charm and all that?”
Kyle froze in the act of turning a piece of fish and nearly broke the fillet. He thought he recovered well, but Lauren chuckled.
“It’s good to know that tigers really don’t change their stripes,” she said and he turned to find her eyes dancing with mischief as she watched him over the rim of her glass.
It pissed him off that she thought he was predictable.
“Tomorrow,” he said emphatically. “Same time, same place, but you cook.”
“Deal,” she agreed before he could reconsider his impulse. “I hope that fish is nearly done because if I finish this wine without eating anything, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“That sounds promising.” Kyle topped up her glass, which made her laugh. He poured himself some sparkling water. He served dinner, pulling up a stool opposite her as they both dug in, and refused to think about the concessions he was making.
It was Lauren, after all, and she’d always broken his rules.
* * *
The meal was wonderful. Simple, healthy, and delicious.
And straightforward, like Kyle. He’d always been one for stating the truth and Lauren wondered if she should push her luck and ask him for a bit more.
It was nice to eat with someone else and she discovered that she had more of an appetite than she’d realized. It was also seductive that Kyle had cooked for her. She felt spoiled and it was a nice change.
His apartment was larger than she’d expected, and she wasn’t surprised that there was a rowing machine in what should have been the dining room, angled so that he could appreciate his view while he worked out. There was also a mountain bike there that looked expensive. It was spattered with mud and had a helmet hanging on the seat.
The apartment took up the northwest corner of the top floor of the building and was shaped like an L, with the main room stretching alone the west side and including the corner. The glass was tinted and the windows stretched from floor to ceiling. The view over the Hudson was wonderful. The setting sun made the sky look like a painting and maybe that was why he didn’t have any art on the walls. Kyle’s bedroom faced north and had dark shades so she couldn’t see the view.
Lauren couldn’t help but notice that his apartment was an impersonal space. The walls were ivory, maybe the color that the builder had painted them. The kitchen had stainless appliances and granite counters. It could have been the model intended to tempt buyers. She suspected that the grill beside the cooktop had been Kyle’s only customization. There was a pair of barstools with leather seats alongside the counter.
The floors throughout were hardwood and there was a pair of brown leather club chairs in front of a television in the living room. It was easy to tell which one Kyle used as the leather had softened with wear. The rug there was a simple ivory Berber. The bedroom, too, looked to have been quickly furnished, with just the big bed, a pair of nightstands, and one long low dresser. She wondered if he’d bought everything in twenty minutes at Restoration Hardware.
There were no pictures on the walls, no photographs, nothing that personalized the space. There wasn’t even a fridge magnet. She had the sense that the apartment was a temporary resting place, not that different from a hotel room, but more economical.
That was a potent reminder that Kyle lived in the moment and that this interlude was a limited time offer.
Still, he’d let her in. He’d agreed she could come back the next night. Maybe it wasn’t as much of a fling as she thought.
Not that she was ready for any kind of relationship. The very idea put butterflies in her stomach. She imagined Kyle’s reaction to her apartment instead. The clutter there would give him hives. It was a good thing he was unlikely to ever be forced to endure it. Lauren bit back a smile.
“What’s so funny?”
Lauren couldn’t see any reason not to share. “Contrast. Your place vs. mine. You could probably pack a bag and move out in an hour. I, however, would need a month to even pack my clothes. If I was going to sort things out first, I’d need six months’ notice.”
“We moved a lot when I was a kid.” He avoided her gaze and Lauren noticed. “I learned to keep it light.”
There was a wealth of meaning behind that confession, but Lauren was aware of Kyle’s discomfort with the subject. She wanted to protect that invitation for the next night. More of Kyle sounded really good to her, even though she knew there wouldn’t be another night after that.
“I could cook at my place tomorrow and make you twitch.”
He laughed. “Stuff doesn’t bother me. My mom has tons. I just don’t feel the need for it myself.” Lauren was phrasing a question, but Kyle seemed to sense as much. He spoke quickly, as if to stop her from asking. “Are you planning to move?”
“No. Why would I?”
“Well, because Mark’s gone.”
Her ex’s name fell on the table between them and Lauren was determined not to have it cast a pall over the evening. “He moved into my place when we got together,” she said, trying to keep any emotion from her tone. “Now that he’s gone, I just have it back.”
Kyle studied her. “And that’s okay?”
“Better than okay. It’s perfect.” There was a ferocity in her words that she wished she could have restrained, but it was too late.
“You want to talk about it?” Kyle sat back, his meal finished. “About him?”
Lauren finished her own meal. “Do you?”
Kyle shrugged and averted his gaze. His tone was neutral. “If it would help you.”
She watched him for a long moment, seeing how much he didn’t want to talk about Mark and appreciating that he was willing to do so, for her. “I’m seeing a new side of you,” she teased quietly and he widened his eyes as if surprised.
“Me?”
“I don’t remember you being such a good friend. A great lay, but not so much a friend.”
He grinned, not insulted at all. “Maybe I’m older and wiser.”
“Comes with the metabolic change?”
“Maybe.” He took her plate and rinsed the dishes, loading the dishwasher as he cleaned up.
“You really should let me help.”
>
“I have a system. Finish your wine and tell me about Mark.”
“Like what about him?”
Kyle paused, then glanced at her. “Where did you meet him?”
That was easy. “He’s in commercial real estate. I met him when he was trying to sell Ty a building near F5.”
“Did Ty buy it?”
“No. But Mark was persistent.”
“Good money in that biz?”
“Yes. Commissions. He moved to a smaller firm in the hope of a faster career track.”
“And?”
“Not yet, but he’s only been there a year.”
Kyle nodded. “What made you love him? And why did you change your mind?”
Nothing like cutting right to the chase. Lauren toyed with her glass, because she wanted to answer honestly. “Well, all the usual stuff. He was attractive, we had fun together, and the sex was good.”
Kyle snorted, as if skeptical, and Lauren smiled.
“It was! At first.”
He gave her a look that spoke volumes. “I saw the video, too, remember.”
“Different technique than the one I knew.”
Kyle held her gaze.
Lauren felt herself blush, because some of Mark’s technique had been familiar.
Kyle shrugged and let it go.
“He listened,” she continued. “That’s really seductive. I felt that I had his attention, that I was the only woman who did.” Lauren couldn’t help thinking that Kyle was really listening to her tonight. She knew she found it just as seductive. Maybe more so. “And when he brought me a gift, it showed that he’d been listening.”
“How?”
“He didn’t just bring flowers when he did. He brought my favorite kind, or ones in my favorite color if those weren’t available.”
Kyle turned from the sink to face her, inviting her to elaborate.
“I’m a romantic. I love lilacs best of all, deep purple ones that have a strong perfume.”
“You don’t see them in the flower stalls often.”
“They’re usually only from someone’s garden, actually.” Lauren smiled. “That’s where it comes from. My mom always had them in her garden, and my grandma was always trying to grow them. I don’t remember how many lilac bushes we planted, but they all died.”