Page 7 of Elijah’s Whim

Better to answer his question with another question, I figured. Rather than be in the hot seat, I’d put him there instead. I’d never met a guy who didn’t love talking about himself. And one as pretty as Elijah? This guy probably couldn’t stop once you pulled the string in the middle of his back.

“Are you?” I smiled sweetly while asking.

“We’re not talking about me right now,” he said in answer.

“No?” I tilted my head to the side. “We should be.”

“We might be roommates for a long time, so I’d like to get to know you better. Plus, we’re supposed to be pulling off a”—he leaned back to use both hands to make air quotes—“relationship here. Especially with the type we’re going for. It’s a unique bond built on complete trust. Yours and mine.”

“Okay,” I answered, but I didn’t dare move a muscle in fear soap suds would shift and key places would no longer be covered.

“Okay? That’s all you’re going to give me?”

“Mr. Banks—”

“Elijah,” he corrected instantly.

I sighed heavily. “Fine, Elijah. I don’t want to have a conversation with you while I’m naked and you’re dressed.”

“Oh, got it, you want me naked too? I’d be more than happy.” He stood up fast and whipped his shirt over his head, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. “To accommodate you. You are my guest, after all.”

Literally, could not move air in or out of my lungs.

But when he yanked on the end of his belt to free the black leather from its other half, I found my voice. I had to stop him before he was out of his pants too.

“No. Stop.”

“Why?” He looked up from the belt that, by some stroke of luck, was giving him mechanical trouble. “Fucking Burberry,” he grumbled while messing with the belt again.

“That’s what you get for straying from the double G’s, dude.” I gave him a quick wink when he looked up in surprise.

“What? A chef can’t like nice things?”

“Of course she can. She should. I just haven’t seen you out of those abysmal clown pants you wear along with that giant lab coat. How you don’t catch fire cooking with all that extra fabric hanging off you, I’ll never understand.” He shook his head with a wide grin on his sinfully beautiful mouth.

“What’s the smile about? It can’t be over that joke. It wasn’t even funny.”

After narrowing his eyes in a look that I guessed was supposed to be menacing, he sobered and said, “I was thinking about the first time I saw Rio in her real clothes. I couldn’t believe how small she was. I had only ever seen her in all that chef stuff.”

He gave his head a little shake and totally surprised me with his next question. The subject shift was so incongruous.

“So, what do you think of Gucci’s Fall and Winter line?”

Beneath the surface, I made gentle swirls with my hands to circulate the water. It was getting a little cool, but now that we were having a normal conversation, I didn’t want it to end.

“What I’ve seen so far, I like. I didn’t see much fashion week activity this year, but I try to keep up with a few bloggers and influencers who really seem to have their finger on the industry’s pulse.”

“Are you getting cold? Your water must be cooling off. I can leave you—”

“No—”

He studied my face with quiet consideration. The way he had his hands slung casually in his pockets was so arousing. Fine. Who was I kidding? Everything about this guy was arousing. His pockets standing alone in the corner by themselves would be arousing. Simply because they were his.

“I just mean—well, I don’t know what I mean. I was enjoying talking with someone. It’s lonely here for me. I’m used to a household with a handful of siblings and two parents. It’s near chaos at all times. Here, well—”

“It’s not. I get it.” He grabbed a fluffy towel off the towel bar by the shower enclosure and held it up for me to step into. “Come. Let’s dry you off, then. We can talk more.”

“Elijah.”