Page 220 of Seasons of Love
"I should take a shower before dinner," he said, stepping back, his voice deeper than earlier.
I turned my attention to the food, not daring to look into his eyes in case I saw something I didn't want to see, or even worse, something I did want to see.
"Yes, of course, there's enough time until dinner is ready."
He walked out of the kitchen but came back seconds later with a small box.
"I have dessert," he said, placing the box on the table before leaving again.
It was only when I heard the shower going in his en suite that I took a deep breath and gave myself a pep talk. I'd never been attracted to younger men before. Why was I struggling so much with this particular young man? For goodness sakes, I was pretty sure I could be his dad.
I stirred the risotto and then got working on setting the table.
When Tiago came back into the kitchen, he was wearing some old jogging bottoms and a University of Lisbon T-shirt and looked a lot more relaxed. His hair was still wet from the shower, and it appeared as if he'd only run his hands through it.
He took two beers from the fridge and joined me as I served our dinner.
"Oh my god, this is really good," he said with a mouthful of risotto. "Sorry, I'm behaving like a pig, but man, where did you learn how to cook like this?"
"I always enjoyed cooking, so I guess it's the many years of practice from doing it at home for us and when friends come over for our usual Sunday lunch. It wasn't always this good, though. One time we'd gone out to a party on a Saturday night and we overslept. Dri had the worst hangover and couldn't even help me with the preparation. Since our friends had all been drunk the night before, they weren't very discerning with the food, so no one realized I hadn't cooked something properly until two of the guys were sick."
Tiago was staring at me with a big smile.
"What?"
"You got so animated talking about your friends. Was Dri your husband?"
I stared back at him.
"Your face lit up when you said his name," he said as if he could tell what I was thinking.
"Yeah, he was. His name was Rodrigo."
"Well, I'm glad you practiced your cooking skills on them. I expect only top-quality food in this establishment."
I couldn't be more relieved that he'd lightened the mood with a joke instead of asking me questions about Dri. As it was, my mind and my body were already confused whenever in Tiago's presence.
"You got it," I said. "Just make sure there's always coffee in the morning for me."
"It's the least I could do."
His smile did nothing to stop a few butterflies from making themselves known in my stomach and my cock to stir in my jeans. I was so glad I'd changed from my suit trousers when I'd got home because those were unforgiving at keeping my indiscreet thoughts discreet.
"And I know people." He pushed the small white box toward me.
I opened it to find two delicious-looking custard tarts.
"Man, you know the right kind of people. I knew it was a good idea to let you stay."
I reached out for one of the pastries and gave Tiago the other one. I moaned at my first bite into the smooth custard and flaky pastry. I couldn't remember when I'd last had a custard tart that was this good.
"You're supposed to eat it, not make love to it," he said as he took his first bite and let out his own moan.
I looked at him with a raised brow, and we both started laughing.
We cleaned the kitchen together, going around each other like we'd been doing it for years. A pang of sadness and longing for Dri came over me, but this time it didn't hit me as hard as before. I remembered the time Dri decided to cook a surprise meal for my birthday, and when I got home, the kitchen looked like it had been hit by a tornado. He'd been so pleased with his effort; I could have lived with a messy kitchen for the rest of my life just to see that smile every day.
"What are you smiling about?" Tiago asked.
