Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 116254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Breck shifted on his stool again, his grin turning boyish. “I may have been somewhat affected.”
Kai chuckled and slid the onion aside. This energy between them… It felt really good.
Twisting around, he turned off the heat to his kettle, then oiled up the remainder of the cooking surface. On to seafood. Two slabs of salmon and a pound of shrimp. Letting them cook, he jazzed up the rice and then tossed in the eggs, rice popping and dancing atop the surface as metal clanged.
Breck watched, looking wholly riveted, eyes tracking Kai’s hands and all the sizzling food. Which worked out nicely. Kai got to steal a few glances, the attractive man before him far more enticing than any meal.
His insides thrummed, enjoying Breck’s presence way too much. Just having him there in his home like this, as he cooked him food… It just felt right. He couldn’t explain it. Like this was the way it was supposed to be. A notion he was so not prepared to admit. Because while Breck had, admittedly, become more pleasurable to be around, he could still be arrogant. And immature. And still had drinking problems. All traits Kai wasn’t interested in. At all. Meaning, they could have their fun together, but that was it. Breck would never become a fixed part of his life. Despite how Kai might wish things could be between them, their worlds just didn’t align.
Exhaling quietly, he turned to his tea pot and filled its diffuser with leaves. Then he poured in the water, steam rising swiftly, and replaced the lid.
Breck regarded it, eyes curious. “What’s that?”
“Sencha.”
Breck lifted a brow, clearly not familiar.
Kai smiled. “Green tea.”
“Ah. Okay. Like matcha?”
“Kinda.” Kai nodded with a shrug. “Both are non-fermented. Although with sencha, you steep whole leaves, whereas with matcha, its leaves are ground up and mixed with water. Sencha’s lighter, more refreshing. I like it. If you’ve got good taste at all, you’ll like it, too.”
Breck’s lips twitched. He lifted his chin. “I’ve got good taste.”
Kai slid him an I’ve-yet-to-be-sold-on-that look and shifted his focus to soy-saucing the veggies. Their turn for some tossing. He flipped the seafood next, then drenched both slabs of salmon in teriyaki. One last douse of soy sauce to the shrimp and he was finally done.
“Hope you’re hungry,” he murmured, shutting off the cooktop.
Breck sat up straighter, all but licking his chops. “If I wasn’t before, I most definitely am now. It looks amazing and, oh my God, smells fucking incredible.”
Kai chuckled and pulled two teacups from a cabinet. “Just wait ‘til you taste it. I mean, I’m not one to brag, but…”
Breck laughed. “But yeah.”
Kai grinned and poured some tea into each mug, its rich amber hue catching the light of the evening sun. Then, using his spatula, he loaded up their plates from across the bar—just like they did in the restaurants. Would Breck notice his attempt to humor him? That megawatt smile on his face said he did.
“You’re a pro at this,” Breck concluded. “Lemme guess, you got a hibachi side-hustle on the weekends or something.”
Kai laughed and came around to join him. “That’s not a bad idea. Maybe, if you’d agree to be my busboy.”
Breck snorted. “Pshh. I’m the king of this town. You’re lucky I even allowed you to cook me this food.”
Kai smirked, settling onto his stool. “And the royal returns. I was wondering how long he’d be able to stay away.”
Breck’s haughty air faltered. “I was kidding.”
“So was I.”
Breck eyed him, as if debating whether or not he believed him.
Kai shifted on his seat and faced his food. Their bare knees brushed. Breck’s whole body stilled, and yet he didn’t move his leg away. Nor did Kai. That skin on skin felt way too good.
Breck met his gaze. Kai’s stomach clenched. God, those eyes. How they bespelled him, all but compelling him to reach for the guy.
Breck swallowed and looked away. Locked his attention on his plate. Then proceeded to gracelessly fumble with his stainless-steel chopsticks. A sight that, for some asinine reason, Kai found ridiculously adorable. A wave of warmth coursed through his body. Tamping a smile, he held his chopsticks where Breck could see them, taking care not to make it look like he was demonstrating proper grip. Breck had pride. Fearsome pride. As Kai well knew. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the mood.
Eventually, Breck got the gist. “I’m typically a fork guy,” he muttered, securing a bite.
You don’t say.
Kai slid him a grin. “Just so you know, few things about tonight are going to be ‘typical’.”
Breck stilled, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, then quickly cleared his throat and refocused on bringing them home. He almost made it. Until the shrimp took a dive. Breck muttered a curse. Kai fought back another smile. This agile athlete’s awkwardness just kept hitting him in the feels. How something so clumsy, and nearly painful to watch, could be so endearing, he had no idea. And now he suddenly found himself struggling against the urge to reach over and feed Breck himself. Breck would be appalled, no doubt taking it as a slight, assuming that Kai was perceiving him as incompetent. If only he knew the truth—how much an interaction like that would turn Kai on.