Playing House by Ruby Lang

Author:Ruby Lang [Lang, Ruby]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2019-05-03T15:26:42+00:00

* * *

Oliver was cooking in Fay’s kitchen. Fay was solidly asleep—so deep under that he’d checked her fridge, decided to leave a note, grabbed her keys. He had time to go out and find a grocery store, dither over ingredients, come back, unpack, and wash a couple of pots. And when he went to check on her, she was still snoozing, openmouthed, under the comforter where he’d left her.

The night had cooled down considerably and Fay’s fan had done its work, pushing the night air into the apartment.

Oliver chopped up vegetables and tofu for a stir-fry. When he finished cooking, he looked at it, waiting for a moment, feeling a little foolish. Should he wake her up? Should he just eat in her kitchen without her and leave her a portion? What made him assume that she wanted him to stick around?

The beauty of the stir-fry seemed to mock him. He’d bought two kinds of peppers—red and yellow—for God’s sake. He’d impulse purchased a mango on a stick that had been carved in the shape of a rose. Two kinds of peppers for dinner and a mango flower for dessert was probably a sign that he already cared too much. He’d even made rice on a stove top—he could not remember the last time he’d made it in a pot and had to pay attention to it. Even in college, he’d had a tiny rice cooker. The Huang kids had never gotten fancy new sheets and towels when they’d moved into the dorms—they’d always just nabbed them from their beds at home—but Ma Huang had gotten all of them shiny mini rice cookers.

Well, he’d done without, and the meal had turned out well. It was nice to feel like he’d accomplished something. He’d made something beautiful. He was just about to put the lid back on the food when Fay padded into the kitchen. “You cooked!”

And she grabbed him and kissed him and held his face, looking into his eyes; that was enough for Oliver to know that he’d done the right thing.

“I also brought you a mango rose.”

Why not just spill everything now?

“What?”

He backed away to go to the fridge, but she clung to him. So they opened it together. Inside, on a paper plate, was a mango flower that he’d bought from a street vendor who’d been packing up to leave. “A rose is a rose,” he said. “Unless it’s a fruit.”

His presentation left something to be desired but she kissed him again more slowly this time, and despite the fact that he was hungry and he’d just spent the last five minutes wondering if he should flee, he didn’t want to be anywhere else. Except maybe in the bed again.

His hand slid up under bare thigh and she sighed. “We should eat,” she murmured against his mouth.

“Where are the forks?” he said, tightening his hold on her ass.

He kissed her again.

“I don’t know. Where did you find the plate?”

They both took a deep breath and let go of each other.

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