by Kennedy Fox
Good enough.
As I move the eggs around like he is, it splatters and burns me again.
“Ouch! Goddammit,” I growl, stepping as far away from the stove as possible while still somehow reaching the pan. I keep listening to the video and try to do what he says, but honestly, this is a mini-disaster waiting to happen.
“Next, you’re going to carefully flip the omelet, and while sometimes it breaks, just roll with it and flatten it out,” the instructor continues.
“Yeah, easy for you to say…” I mutter, stepping closer and trying my best to flip the damn thing. It goes as expected—half flipped, half smooshed. I try to even it out so it’s level and the other side can cook.
While that happens, I add in the ham and cheese, then allow it to cook for a few more minutes.
Once it looks done, I grab a plate and try to slide it on there without dropping it.
“Well, that looks horrendous.” I set the pan to the side and stare at the saddest omelet I’ve ever seen. I add more ham pieces and cheese on top so he won’t notice how badly I botched it.
Grabbing the loaf of bread, I slip two pieces into the toaster. Once it’s ready, I slather on butter and set them next to the heaping mess on the plate.
Bruno comes charging in just as I place the dish on the table. Eli follows, and we lock eyes. The intensity behind them has my entire body burning with desire.
“Morning,” he greets, carrying a stack of wood in his arms. “Did you…cook?” He sniffs, then grins.
“Yes.” I quickly clear my dry throat. “Well, I tried.”
He blinks, then chuckles. “Smells good.”
“Hopefully, it’s edible. I wanted to make breakfast to repay you.”
Eli walks in farther and goes to the living room, then drops the wood by the fireplace. He pulls off his gloves and sets them on the island, noticing the huge mess I’ve made.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he says softly. “But I’m starving, so I appreciate it.”
“It’s on the table,” I tell him. “Do you want some coffee?”
“Sure, I’d love some.”
He sits down and dives in, moaning as he chews. I make him a cup of black coffee, and when I bring it to him, half of the omelet is already gone.
“This is really good, Cami,” he mumbles around a mouthful. “You really made this?”
“I have the oil burns to prove it.” I chuckle. “Admittedly, I had to watch an instructional video. Don’t judge me.”
Eli licks his lips, holding back his laughter, but there’s amusement in his eyes. The whole thing is pretty hilarious. Poor rich girl who’s twenty-two can’t cook to save her life and has to research the simplest recipes. Regardless, I’m determined as hell to take advantage of this situation and learn some useful basic skills.
“No judging.” He holds up his fork, taking another large bite. “It’s delicious. In fact, now that I know you can cook, I’ll be expecting this every morning.”
My head falls back with laughter, but his encouragement warms my heart. It’s nice to hear that it wasn’t a complete epic fail.
“Baby steps,” I mock. “There are one-minute how-to-cook videos on TikTok, so I might be able to learn a second dish before this is all over.”
“I have a super easy one called toad in a hole. It’d be really hard to screw that up.”
I furrow my brows. “Toad in a hole? Where you fry the eggs in the middle of a piece of bread?”
He confirms with a nod.
“Then you mean egg in a basket.” I fold my arms, challenging his weird name. I’ve never made it, but our chef did when Ryan and I were kids.
He scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Toad. In. A. Hole,” he emphasizes slowly. “Is the correct term. Fight me.” He smirks.
“That doesn’t even make sense. If you’re going with an animal, wouldn’t it be chick in a hole?”
He snickers, shrugging. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?” he asks once he realizes I don’t have a plate.
I cock my head, pursing my lips. “It was hard enough making one omelet. I’m not pressing my luck again.”
“Cami.”
“Stop, I’m fine. I wanted a smoothie anyway.” I slide the chair back and stand.
“Let me make you something as a thank you for breakfast,” he urges. “Please.”
“No way!” I scold, walking to the kitchen island to clean up. “I made you that as a thank you. You can’t thank me for thanking you.”
He squints, grabs his plate, then walks toward me. “Wait, what?”
I sigh. “You’ve cooked since we got here, so I wanted to repay you for that. You can’t in return thank me for it when I was already thanking you.”
“Says who?” he challenges, setting his empty dish in the sink.
“Me,” I remark. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll eat a big lunch.”
“Hmm.” He thinks it over, brushing his fingers over his scruffy jawline. “Alright, fine. But lunch is in an hour then.”
“Oh my God.” I shake my head, laughing at his persistence. I open the dishwasher and load it, add in the detergent, then hit start.
Eli silently watches me with an amused expression as he leans against the counter, crossing his ankles.
“What?” I ask. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Just thinking how sexy you look right now.” I was certain he was going to make some smart-ass comment about me using the dishwasher properly, but I hadn’t expected that.
I look down at my outfit, which consists of the same clothes I wore to bed. Normally, I’d never be caught wearing loungewear around anyone other than my family, but I’m comfortable around Eli. Plus, he doesn’t care about any of that.
“You mean, greasy hair and an unwashed face are your kink?” I release a dramatic gasp. “Who knew?”
“Actually, I was thinking you being all domestic and shit makes me horny as fuck.”
I set my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes at him. “Let me guess, you want your woman barefoot and pregnant, am I right? A traditional housewife, dinner on the table at six every night, sex on Saturday nights after SNL.”
“Oh, there’d be sex every night,” he retorts. “Especially if I want to keep you knocked up.”
“Well, sorry to burst your 1950s era bubble, but I plan to have a career,” I state matter-of-factly.
His shoulders rise and fall. “So? Have a career. You can be a mom and wife at the same time. Millions of women do.”
“And what will you do? Chop wood and fix light bulbs while I raise the kids and bring home the bacon?”
He smirks. “I’ll pick up the kids from school, take them to the park to play, then bring them home. I’ll give them a bath, then read them a bedtime story. Once they’re asleep, I’ll pleasure my wife and make sure she goes to bed completely satisfied.”
“Wow. Sounds like you have it all figured out.”
He bobs his head back and forth, pushing off the counter. “Except for a few minor details.”
“Like what? Pussy or anal?”
His cocky smirk returns as he takes a step toward me. “Is everything about sex for you?”
I roll my eyes, leaning against the island. “What then?”
“I’d prefer to marry a woman who wants me as much as I want her. I don’t mind the chase, the challenges even, but I don’t want to constantly second-guess her feelings for me.”
A lump forms in my throat, and butterflies swarm in my stomach. His reference is about me, and the way I’ve been hot and cold. It’s no wonder he’s confused.
Hell, I was confused by the way I acted just days ago.
“So what could she say or do to help alleviate those fears?” Our eyes lock on each other, and my rapid breathing echoes between us.
“She could be honest,” he states, closing the gap until he’s standing in front of me.
Swallowing hard, I suck in my lower lip and feel the heat from his gaze burn into my
skin. He wants a real answer—not based on just the physical aspects but the emotional too—and I’ve never been good at that. I’ve struggled with who to trust and how much of myself to give to keep from getting hurt. Growing up, I had numerous friends who I thought would be my ride or dies, but they’d use me, then toss me out like trash. That emotional wall was built to help protect myself. But if anyone’s capable and worthy of protecting my heart, it’s Eli.
“I want you,” I admit. “Even through the constant arguing and teasing, I’ve wanted you. I convinced myself it’d never happen, so I pushed you away instead, but don’t think for a moment I didn’t care about you or wasn’t attracted to you. I was and still am.”
I inhale sharply as he palms my face and brings his mouth close. Not quite touching, but just enough to feel his hot breath against my lips.
“I never want us to stop arguing or teasing each other because that means the fire is still there. We’re both a little hotheaded but at the same time, down to earth and easygoing. We share a lot of common traits but have a lot of opposite interests. I’m someone who enjoys cooking, and you’re someone who enjoys eating.”
“So, what you mean is we’re a match made in heaven?” I smile.
He plucks the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “Precisely.”
I gulp. “Are you going to kiss me yet?”
“I was thinking about it.” His deep voice rumbles low in his throat, sending vibrations between my legs.
“What are you waiting for?” I challenge, feeling more anxious with each passing second.
“To see if you’re going to change your mind.”
Without hesitation, I fist his sweatshirt and pull him toward me until our mouths collide.
He tilts my head back as he deepens the kiss. My arms wrap around his shoulders, and he quickly slides his hands down until he grabs my ass and lifts me off my feet. My legs go around his waist as he sets me on the island counter and settles between my thighs.
The last time we had a heated moment was on the couch, and the damn doorbell rang, interrupting what I had hoped would turn into more, but knowing he doesn’t have a condom has me wondering how far we’ll go.
“I still don’t—”
“I know,” I say, breathing heavily. “It doesn’t matter. I want you.”
Eli releases a deep moan, moving his mouth lower to my neck. “I agree, but not yet.”
My arms drop to my sides, and I groan in frustration. “We’ve waited long enough,” I argue. “If you add in all the years we pined over each other, it’s overdue at this point.”
He pulls back slightly with a mischievous grin. “When I imagined being inside you for the first time, it’s not like this. Not when I’ve been sweating and chopping wood all morning. I want to wine and dine you first.”
“Seriously? You’re worried about that?”
“It should be romantic,” he states. “And I’ll try my best, considering...”
“Okay, so how much time do you need? I can be shaved and showered in an hour.”
He snickers, shaking his head. “Gimme a few days.”
My eyes widen in horror. “Days?”
“Anything worth having is worth waiting for.”
“Don’t get poetic on me.”
He leans in and softly brushes his lips against mine. “You’re even more adorable when you’re sexually frustrated.”
“Imagine when I’m sexually satisfied,” I counter.
His whole body shakes with laughter. “The longer we wait, the better it’ll be. I promise.”
“I’m willing to prove that theory wrong.”
“Don’t challenge me, Cami. Resisting you is something I’ve perfected over the years. You’re at level one while I’m at level fifty. You really wanna play this game?”
“Sure, let’s gamble,” I say confidently. “You have to resist me while I seduce the shit out of you. If you crack, and we end up in bed together, I win.”
“Technically, if I give in, we both win.”
I bite my lip, grinning. “But I’ll have bragging rights for life.”
Chapter Fourteen
ELIJAH
I’m either a genius or the biggest fucking idiot in the world for telling Cami I wanted to wait a little while longer.
Now, it’s a game to her. She wants me as badly as I want her, and she’s ready to do whatever it takes to make me crack.
As much as I want to give in to what I’ve fantasized about since we were teenagers, I’m determined to resist her.
Cami saunters around the kitchen and prepares her smoothie. I watch carefully as she puts fruit, yogurt, and milk into a blender, and when she looks over her shoulder and winks, I know it’s game on. She’s not gonna make this easy, no matter what I do or say.
I help clean up the counters and wipe everything down while she pours her drink into a glass. Walking into the kitchen to find her cooking for me was a nice surprise, but I actually enjoy making her food. It’s the one thing I can offer that isn’t about money or status.
“You have a lot of schoolwork to do today?” I ask casually with her back to me.
“Nope. Planned to take the day off, but now it looks like I’ll have nothing to do.” She shrugs, then takes a sip of her drink. “Any ideas what I could do?”
Fuck, she’s cute when she wants something. Who knew someday it’d be me?
Walking up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and bury my head in the crook of her neck. She instantly freezes at my touch, then melts her body against mine. “You could relax for a change and watch a movie with me,” I whisper. “Cuddle, you know, that sorta thing.”
“Cuddle? You cuddle, huh?” She turns and faces me, and I quickly give her a peck. She sinks into me, but I stop it before things get too heated. I’m determined to keep the willpower I’ve controlled around her for years.
“I’m a great cuddler. You should see for yourself,” I offer with a smirk. “I’ll start the fire, and we can watch something together.”
“Is this your way of forcing me into another weird as fuck train wreck about gay throples and tigers?”
I push back slightly until I’m leaning against the opposite corner. “Nope. I’ll even let you pick. Lady’s choice.”
She gives me a skeptical look, sliding her straw between her plump lips, then eyes me curiously. “Anything?”
I wave out a hand. “Anything.”
She ponders and then her mouth sweeps up into an evil grin. “Alright, deal. Bring the vodka and meet me in the living room.”
“Vodka?” I raise my brows. “It’s not even noon.”
“It’s time to play my game. You scared?” she challenges with a cheeky grin.
I chuckle. “Very.”
She saunters past me, fluttering light on her feet with a booty shake, which drives me insane. My eyes lower as I take in her curves, knowing I’m only making it worse for myself.
Once I grab the bottle and shot glasses, I find her on the couch and set everything on the coffee table. Lighting the fireplace, I create the perfect atmosphere. She turns on the TV when I settle next to her.
“Well, what’d you pick?” I ask, putting my arm around her. I’m close enough to smell the sweetness of her hair.
“I’m so glad you asked.” She smirks, and I see a bunch of twentysomethings in swimsuits. Then the trailer begins.
“What the fuck is this?” I ask at least three times within the first thirty seconds.
“Netflix’s new reality dating show about personal growth and resisting temptation. Thought you’d especially be interested in it.”
“Am I really supposed to believe they don’t give in? This feels like a trap…”
“Oh, Eli. I’m going to enjoy this.” She chuckles as the narrator begins explaining the “experiment” and how they have to abstain from kissing, sex of any kind, and masturbation, or money will be deducted from the hundred-grand prize.
“You’re withholding and not even being rewarded with any
money…” she taunts, resting her hand on my leg.
“Which means, I should’ve gone on that island because I would’ve won!” I gloat.
Cami shakes her head. “You just wait.”
“Wow…” I say after all the participants are introduced. “So they picked the absolute most shallow people they could find on the planet, grouped them together at a beach house with nothing else to do besides sunbathe and work out, and they have to try not to jump each other’s bones?”
“The goal is to form a connection that isn’t based on sex.”
“Precisely what I suggested we do…” I counter.
“Yes, but they all literally just met. We’ve known each other for a long ass time,” she argues. “So…”
“But we only kissed days ago. You can’t go from hating each other’s guts to getting naked in a matter of days.”
She turns and faces me. “You really hated my guts?”
I look at her, frowning. “Well, I’ve always had underlying feelings for you, but when you called me out for being poor and made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for you, it was hard to like you as a person. Yet for some reason, I couldn’t get you outta my head. Or my heart, apparently.”
“I was an awful teenager, I know.” She lowers her gaze.
I tilt her head up until her eyes meet mine again. “We fed off each other’s hostility. I don’t blame you. I provoked you just as much as you provoked me. There was tension because something was bubbling between us that neither of us understood. But I do now. The chemistry and connection, it’s real. It always has been, and I’m glad we can use this time to get to know each other better.”
“Yes, I agree. But we can also have some fun while doing so.”
I sigh with a small chuckle. “Okay, so what are the guidelines for your drinking game?”
“Every time a couple breaks a rule, we take a shot and mimic their offense.”
“You mean, do what they did?”
“Right!”
“Cami,” I warn, easily seeing right through her.
“Don’t worry. We don’t actually see them having sex or doing anything more than touching and kissing.”