Zander: Too much information, Mac. Okay, I'm going in.
Mac: You're welcome, by the way ;)
I walk down the hallway and knock on the door, opening it slowly. My eyes widen when I see her curled up on top of her bed, staring at the wall. Straight away I think that someone has hurt her, and I ball my fists, immediately wanting to inflict pain on whoever has done this to her.
Then it came to me; pancakes.
Pancakes for dinner. It was Mom's go to meal when any of us was feeling down. It never failed to get us talking and smiling again. And I want to give that to Firebird.
I almost f**ked up and called her that. Damn, that wouldn't have gone over well. I feel bad for the deception, but seeing her so upset tonight, I want...no, I need her to want me for me before I come clean. I just hope that the stolen glances, the shower incident-god, that was hot and has been on repeat in my head every night since-and even the look she gave me tonight where she was shocked and grateful, mean as much to her as they have to me.
“Pancakes.”
She shook her head a little, her gorgeous face frowning up at me. “What?” she asks, her voice hoarse.
“Pancakes, for dinner. I come from a family of women. When one of them was hurt, upset, or even just a little bit down, we'd have pancakes for dinner. It's a weird Roberts' tradition. Don't knock it till you've tried it.” I smile down at her, waiting for an answer. She looks so vulnerable right now, her blue eyes wet with tears which have tracked down her cheeks. I hate seeing her like this, so upset, hurt. Right now, all I want to do is scoop her up and take care of whatever is upsetting her. It's my nature; what I've always done. And with Kate, I'd slay dragons to put a smile on her face.
Fuck, that's corny.
“Okay,” she says breathlessly.
It takes all my will power not to lean down and kiss her right then and there. With her lying down, her eyes looking up at me expectantly, I notice her breathing pick up, and her eyes dilate. Holy shit, she's thinking along the same lines as I am. I have to stay strong because now is not the time to lose myself in her.
I take a deep breath and stand up. “I'll meet you in the kitchen, babe, ten minutes. Prepare to be ah… amazed.” I trip over my words as I try to get myself together. If ever I needed a sign from Kate, it was now. And that was as big a sign as any.
“Thanks, Zan, for being here,” she replies sweetly, her smile hits me like a shot to the heart, and groin. I've been struggling not to show her how hard I am, and standing in her bedroom with her dressed in a tight tank and yoga pants is not helping the situation.
I turn and walk out to the kitchen. It's time. This is my in. What did Mom say? You listen, you ask questions, and you woo. Well, I'm about to add the woo factor into the equation.
KATE
There's something different about Zander tonight. I can't put my finger on it, but he's being attentive, engaging, and I wouldn't be alive if I couldn't admit that seeing his ass in my kitchen was all kinds of hot. I can't tell you the images running through my mind, but the possibilities are endless. I've been sitting here for a while now. After the ten minute head start I gave him, I splashed water on my face to make myself look semi normal, then wandered out to the kitchen, sat myself down on a stool and watched him prepare pancakes and cook bacon.
“You like eggs?”
I blink out of my revelry. “Ah, yes. Love them.”
“Poached or fried?”
“Fried, please.”
“I love that.”
“What?”
He spins around and smiles at me, a huge grin that lights up the room. “You love food, and I love that. Do you know how annoying it is when a woman only wants salad and diet everything?”
I giggle because I totally agree with his statement. Let's be honest, I do love my food. “What can I say?” I shrug and grin back at him.
“Damn cute,” he murmurs under his breath as he turns around to flip a pancake.
“You're not too bad yourself,” I say with bated breath. Totally not where I saw this night going. I was set to cry myself to sleep, or steal ice cream from the freezer and eat my way through a tub of chunky monkey to find absolution.
“Good to hear, babe,” he says with a chuckle as he removes the pancake, adding it to the growing stack beside him, and pours another one.
“Where did you learn to cook?” I ask, stealing a piece of bacon he stupidly left on the counter in front of me. Mac obviously never told him about our love affair with all things bacon.
“My mom. I've got three sisters, and being the only boy, she wanted to make sure I could take care of myself in case I never found a woman for the job. She's always asking when I'm going to find a nice girl to look after me.”
“Sounds eerily similar to my mom. She thinks I need taking care of too,” I add wistfully.
“She's right,” he replies, flooring me.
“Maybe. But the pressure to be perfect like my older brothers gets a bit old, you know?”
“Yes, try being the oldest with three younger sisters and becoming the man of the house at thirteen years old. I was just learning to be a man myself while also looking out for the four most important women in the world to me, my mom included.”
“Wow. That's huge, Zan.”
“Yeah, had to be done. Wouldn't change a thing. Is that what tonight was about? The pressure to be perfect? Babe, nobody is perfect, but you'll always be perfect for someone.”
“Yes and no. I've been bottling up a lot of stuff for a long time. Tonight, it all kind of bubbled over.”
He turns to bring the eggs to the counter before leaning down and pulling out the plates and cutlery.
“Oh, shit. I should be helping with that.”
“No, you shouldn't. The rule with pancakes for dinner is that the person who needs it does nothing but sit there and look pretty. And you're doing a fine job of that.”
I feel heat creep up my cheeks as I look down at the plate in front of me. God dammit. No, Kate, you can't fall for your best friend's ex f**k buddy. He probably only wants casual anyway.
He grins at me, and I hope to God he can't read my mind because then I know I'll be in trouble. He hands me a plate, his fingers brushing mine as he hands me the cutlery, sending a jolt through my body- and not an unwelcome one either.
“Ladies first.” He waves his hand over the food and looks at me expectantly. “Unless you've filled yourself up on the stolen bacon?” he says, arching an eyebrow in silent challenge.
“I'm not going to say no. This looks amazing. I think I love pancakes for dinner.” I stuff a piece in my mouth and smirk at him, which just makes him laugh.