Blaze (Heat #3)(10)

"You'd sell it?" My hands drop to my hips in mock annoyance. "You wouldn't keep it for yourself?"

"I'll only sell it if I'm really desperate." She bats her long eyelashes. "My roommate might kick me out one day. If that happens, I'll need to sell your autograph to make ends meet."

I want to tell her that she can stay living with me for as long as she needs. My nonna would want that. She's the one who left me this apartment in her will. I was determined to give it to Sergio once probate was finalized, but he insisted that he bought it for his mom and that he had to abide by her wishes. I moved in with the intention of eventually selling it. Now, I'm not sure I ever will.

I shake my head. "You're not going anywhere. Besides, I need you here to help me pick out some outfits for the photo shoot."

"You want me to be your stylist?"

She asks as if there's anyone else who would be qualified for the job. "You know how to dress me, Soph. I'd be lost without you."

"I'll take care of it." She starts digging in her purse. "I'll make some notes while we eat dinner."

I'm surprised she hasn't noticed that our apartment smells only of clean air and the vanilla scented candle I lit when I got home twenty minutes ago. I called Magari and asked for Sergio but he wasn't there. The last cell number he ever gave to me was disconnected a long time ago. I took my inability to reach him as a testament to fate so I came home. "I haven't had time to cook."

Her gaze lingers on my face before it shifts to the kitchen. "Do you remember that fig salad we shared a couple of months ago? I could totally go for that tonight."

"From the place down the block?" I smile at her willingness to adapt at a moment's notice. At lunch she mentioned how much she was craving a homemade burger. Without any complaint, she's shifting her focus to a restaurant delivered, bland fig salad. "I can run out to get the fixings for burgers, Soph."

"Nope." She's on the move, walking in the direction of her bedroom. "I'm calling to order two salads and a bottle of wine. My best friend, the soon-to-be sweetheart of the culinary world, is going to put her feet up and relax tonight. Dinner is on me."





CHAPTER 11


My phone rings just as Sophia clears what's left of our salads from the kitchen island. The dressing needed a punch so I added a few fresh herbs and a splash of honey. I thought it was marginally better. To Sophia it was practically orgasmic judging by the sounds she was making as she ate up every last morsel of food.

I glance down at my phone's screen on the third ring.

"Hi," I say quietly.

"Did I wake you?" Tyler's voice is low.

I glance at the clock that hangs over the stove. It's not even nine yet. "It's early."

He pauses before he sighs. "I want to see you. Can I come over?"

I shrug as I look up at Sophia. "I'm hanging out with my roommate tonight, Tyler."

Sophia jumps in front of me, her arms waving silently in the air. If we were playing charades, I'd be lost but I know what message she's trying to convey. She's about to ditch me so I'll be free to hang out with him.

"I won't stay long." He clears his throat. "There's something I need to say. Can you spare ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes?" I mutter. "I can give you that."

"I'm in the lobby," he rasps. "The doorman is letting me up."

With that he ends the call.

"Ten minutes?" Sophia asks with a tilt of her head. "Has the man not heard of foreplay?"

I scrub my hands over my face. "I have to change my clothes. Entertain him for me, will you? Just ask about food. He'll take it from there."

"Got it." She points toward my bedroom. "Go and put on something that shows off your ass."

"Sophia?" I turn back to look at her. "What the f*ck?"

"If I had an ass like that, I'd flaunt it every chance I had."

I pivot back around, wiggle my ass and run down the hall to my room.

***

"Your roommate told me my T-shirt isn't tight enough." He thrusts his shoulders back. The motion pulls the black material taut across his chest. "What do you think?"

I think foreplay is over-rated. Talking is too.

I shake my head to chase away the thought of how he looks without a T-shirt on. "I think it's fine. You look fine."

"You look incredible. I haven't seen you in that dress before."

It's not something I wear outside the apartment. It's white, strapless and made of a lightweight fabric. It's not a Sophia Reese design. This one is a transplant from my old apartment. I've had it since I was in high school. It's comfortable and snug enough that it complements my body without blatantly highlighting anything.

"You said you needed ten minutes," I say quietly. "What did you want to talk about?"

He tilts his head. "It might take longer than that."

I try to hide my smile behind my hand. "I'll give you fifteen. The clock starts now, Chef."

His brow quirks. "You're keeping me honest. I like that."

"Honesty is important." I don't look him in the eye when I say it. I haven't been completely honest with him. I've skirted the edge of the truth for weeks.