Love and Other Bugs

11: Personal

I busied myself with downing the entire bottle of water on the ten-minute car ride back to the house, in an attempt to keep myself from saying anything stupid. It was clear I needed to switch him back to normal. The issue being now he not only looked like a gorgeous human being but acted like one too. I was struggling to find my voice in front of him.

"You feeling any better?" He asked as we pulled into the driveway.

"What?" My brain caught up a half-second before he repeated the question, " Oh, yes I feel very hydrated."

He smiled, his expression was one of genuine amusement. "I'm glad."

"You are?" He had never expressed an emotion before, even one as basic as 'glad'.

"Of course," He put the car in park and looked over at me, "Wouldn't want you getting overheated."

Coming out of his mouth 'overheated' was a dirty word, and I genuinely couldn't tell if he was aware. I squirmed in my seat, intentional or not the effect he had on me now was undeniable.

"Well, Eric will be home in a few hours, you should probably start marinating those steaks." I noted when the silence stretched on a little too long.

"Yes, of course. I'll get right on that."

He slipped out of the driver's seat without another word, coming around to my door and opening it for me. As I climbed out he reached down to retrieve my purse and the shoes I'd kicked back off after we left the grocery store.

"I'll grab the steaks, you go on inside." He smiled, waving me towards the front door as he rounded the car to the trunk.

I did as I was told, but the fact that he didn't usually give me orders wasn't lost on me, even if it was gentlemanly. In a way he really hadn't changed much, Silas had always been very accommodating. He was persistent in asking how I was and what he could do for me. But it felt different when he did things for me without asking, somehow it made it seem more chivalrous than obligatory.

I floated into the foyer, the euphoric feeling of the cold marble against my sore feet was enough to make me stop and close my eyes for a moment. The air conditioning cooled my lightly sunburnt skin, raising goosebumps up my neck and arms, and for once I was grateful to live in a cold, stone icebox of a house.

"Can I get you a glass of wine, or a snack for you while I make dinner?" Silas asked moments later, as he made his way inside and followed me into the kitchen "Lorraine told me you left before your food came out."

All at once, the emptiness in my stomach was all-consuming, "Yes, a snack would be wonderful."

I waited for him to ask what I would like, but he just smiled, "Have a seat, I'll make you something."

I pulled up my usual stool at the island, unable or maybe just unwilling to keep my gaze off of him as he moved around the kitchen. From the back, I couldn't believe he was the same 'person'. In the time I had owned him I had gotten used to the unnaturally fluid way he moved. Now his precise and meticulous movements were instead deceivingly natural and graceful.

When he set a sandwich down in front of me minutes later, I realized that while my gaze had never strayed from him, I hadn't been paying any attention at all to what he was making. I raised a brow and met his eyes.

"Is this a PB&J?" I asked.

"Yeah, with raspberry preserves. Your favorite sandwich, right?"

An involuntary blush crept up my neck. Eric wasn't the biggest fan of sandwiches in the first place, but he found PB&Js to be the worst. "Dessert masquerading as food" was how he referred to them, I had only eaten a handful of them since we'd been in together.