Unspeakable Words by Sarah Madison

Author:Sarah Madison [Madison, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub

IT RAINED all afternoon. Jerry gave up on the idea of cooking anything and ordered delivery pizza for dinner. Flynn had seemed pleased at the idea, which Jerry couldn’t help resenting just a bit, but Flynn had quickly explained.

“Don’t get me wrong—you’re a really good cook. But sometimes a guy’s just gotta have pizza.”

He then persisted in giving Oliver little bits of meat off his slices, knowing that it was really pissing Jerry off. He couldn’t even pretend that he didn’t know.

“You know where to puke,” Jerry said to the cat, indicating Flynn’s shoes by the door.

Flynn just gave him a cheeky grin. “So, where’d you learn to cook anyway?”

Jerry shrugged. “Mostly by trial and error. Read some books, watched the Food Network, went online. It started out as a means of self-preservation, but then I began to enjoy it.”

“And food is like sex, huh?” Flynn said with a sly smile, deliberately rattling the hornet’s nest again, it would seem.

“I think so,” Jerry said thoughtfully, pretending not to see the gloat. “For instance, I’m a picky eater.”

Flynn waggled his eyebrows. Jerry ignored him and spoke with exaggerated patience. “So, when I first started cooking, I left out the ingredients I didn’t like, and I wondered why nothing tasted right or had any flavor.”

Flynn’s eyes narrowed slightly. Jerry continued, hiding his smirk unsuccessfully. “Then I decided I would try every recipe the way it was written just once. If I didn’t like it, no big deal. I didn’t have to try it again. But I discovered that there were some flavors that combined in unexpected ways to produce a really… powerful… result. It’s all about food chemistry.”

“Uh-huh,” Flynn said, sucking the pepperoni grease off his fingers slowly. Jerry was about to put his reaction to this gesture into the soundproof booth when he noted that Flynn was watching him. Caught, Flynn burst out laughing. “Gotcha.” He grinned.

You’re playing with fire. You know that, don’t you? The flush that crept up Flynn’s neck and face suggested that he did, but he couldn’t resist, just the same.

They hung out on the couch and watched football, Flynn professing consternation that Jerry hadn’t even realized that it was the NFL playoff weekend. When it was over, Jerry called the emergency vet clinic. The vet couldn’t come to the phone, but the tech had a few words of encouragement.

“Well, she’s come around a bit, but she’s still pretty subdued. Too soon yet to tell how she’s going to do. You should call back in the morning. What are you going to call her?”

Jerry blanked on what to name the kitten; he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Call her Phoenix,” Flynn said abruptly from his side of the couch.

“Oh, man, that’s perfect. Phoenix,” he told the tech with delight. “Her name is Phoenix.” The tech seemed to like it as well.

Flynn seemed restless and edgy after that. Jerry thought briefly of the sorts of things he’d do on a Saturday evening if he were alone, but none of them had any great appeal with Flynn in the apartment.

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