I swallow hard when Zeth comes walking into the kitchen wearing his work uniform. My knees start to feel wobbly. This is the first time I’ve seen him in it, and I’d be hanging out at the country club more if I knew he looked that good in it. No wonder Savannah can’t shut the hell up about her date with him this weekend. Apparently, he’s the new, hot commodity around there.

“Hey,” he says, awkwardly, when he notices me standing at the island.

All of my blood rushes straight between my legs when he begins to unbutton his shirt. I catch my breath, my eyes glued to him as he pulls it off his arms and reveals his hard chest. Even though I’ve seen it plenty of times, it never gets old.

I knead the cookie dough in my hands and rip pieces off it roughly while taking short, calming breaths to keep myself from jumping on him like a dog in heat. I should be ashamed for eye-screwing him, but I can’t help it. I sigh, and my stomach falls when he grabs a shirt from his bag and takes away my mouth-watering view as he puts it on.

“Hey,” I say, stuttering at first. “Did you just get back from work?”

That was a stupid question considering he’s in his work uniform.

“I did.”

“Did Cam give you any more shit?”

He shoves his work shirt in his bag and tosses it on the table. “That jackass has a little Chihuahua mouth on him. I want to swat him away like the gnat he is. In all seriousness, you need to re-think your relationship and kick his ass to the curb. You’re too good for him.”

I look at him curiously. “Have you ever even been in a relationship?”

He stares my way, looking like I’ve grown another head right in front of him. “A dating relationship?”

“Yes, a dating relationship.”

He shrugs his shoulders and gives me a boyish grin. “Sure, I have.”

“Oh really?” I can tell he’s lying.

“When I was in first grade, there was this chick named Bethany. She had the most perfect little blonde pigtails. We chased each other around the playground and gave each other cooties.” He laughs when I throw a dishtowel at him.

“Very funny. Someone who’s never been in a relationship is in no position to judge other relationships.”

He moves closer and stops to look at me from the other side of the island. “I understand your boyfriend is a fucking douchebag that ditches you to go party. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that’s not a good relationship, princess.”

“He wasn’t partying, and I told him that I’d rather be left alone. It can get awfully boring sitting in the dark.” But he did it for me.

My heart starts to thump against my chest when he comes around the island and stops at my side. I feel the warmth of his shoulder hitting mine.

He bumps me with his hip and gazes down at me in concern before reaching out and running a hand through my hair. “You feeling any better?”

I nod, looking away from him. “I am, and thank you again.” The exhaustion from my migraine is still eating at me, but I’m beginning to gain my energy back.

I shiver when his hand moves down to my shoulder.

“No problem.” He gestures to the mess in front of me. “What you got going on here?”

I play with the dough in my hands. After I got out of the shower, I decided I needed something to take my mind off everything. I called Cam earlier to ask if he wanted to come over and hang out. He declined, saying he had plans with his friends today, which pissed me off and led to an argument.

“I’m making cookies. Want to help?”

“Sure. I can’t promise I won’t fuck up some shit.” He wipes his hands together. “What kind of cookies are we baking up in here, Paula Dean?”

“Chocolate chip and peanut butter.”

“Since I’m giving you my assistance that means you’re giving me half, right?”

I fake an annoyed groan. “Fine, you can have half.”

He snatches the dough from me and starts to play with it. “I know you’re going to think this sounds like bullshit, but I really am sorry about what I said about you.”

I gulp. I don’t want to have this conversation. I’d rather we act like it never happened. “It’s fine. I can’t be mad for what you think about me. It’s your opinion, and you’re free to express it to whoever.” My response sounds like total bullshit. I can tell he’s thinking the same.

“That’s not what I think about you.”

“Let’s just drop it.” The last thing I need is another migraine.

He nods. “Got it. Now on to the cookie making.”

We get started rolling out the dough and mix all of the ingredients together. He makes it his mission to have my entire face covered with flour by the time we’re finished. I put the timer on the oven, and he slides the cookies on the top rack.

He grabs a can of coke from the fridge, pops it open, and leans back, his lady-killer green eyes focusing on me. “Where’s your dad at?”

His question catches me off guard. My eyes flicker away from him, and my stomach starts to sink.

“He died when I was ten,” I answer, the words hurting as they come out.

I don’t like talking about my dad. When he died, my entire world came crashing down. The man who allowed me to be his shadow, following him around everywhere he went, and who had tea parties with me and my fifteen dolls was gone. That part of me was gone.

“I’m sorry.” Concern fills his face as he comes closer. “How did it happen?”

“He was a firefighter and died on a run.”

“Does that piss you off?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did it make you angry that he died helping other people live?”

He’s the first to ever ask me this question. Plenty of people gave me condolences, but no one asked how I was feeling. “It did at first. I hated everyone in the department, wouldn’t even talk to them at his funeral, but I’ve come to the realization that no one could’ve stopped it. That’s what my dad wanted to do. He wanted to save lives, and he did. Unfortunately, he couldn’t save his own.”

I don’t realize a tear is trailing down my cheek until the warmth of his thumb tingles across my skin, and he catches it. He wipes the sadness from my face. My heart beats like a drum, sending vibrations through my body, when his finger slides from my cheek to the top of my lip, tracing it slowly.

It’s back. The hammering that coursed through me when we were on the couch that night has come back to life. My stomach flutters with anticipation and fear. I can’t move away from him. I lean forward, my eyes slowly shutting.

We’re inches apart.

This is going to happen.

It shouldn’t, but I can’t hold back.

I jump when the oven starts beeping.

Saved by the bell.

My eyes shoot open, noticing his become dark and hooded.

He scratches his head, and disappointment etches on his face. “I need to hit the shower.”

He turns around and leaves the kitchen before I have the chance to stop him. I want to tell him I don’t know what is going on between us, but there’s something.