ZOYA
Tyler gets up and stalks into his kitchen. He pulls out a jug of orange juice and chugs from it. I follow, nervous I may have upset him. I peer at him like he's a wounded animal that might lash out.
"You are no longer a bachelor. You can't just chug from the bottle like that. Use a cup."
"What are ya, the etiquette police?" He shakes his head but he's chuckling.
"You have to teach the kids good behaviors."
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
I suck in a breath, then shut my mouth, pursing my lips to one side. "I will give you that this apartment is really, really tidy. For a single man, and an athlete. I expected it to smell like feet."
His lips quirk at this. "Really? Am I a smelly guy?"
"No." I love the way you smell. And now, I love the way you kiss and wish we hadn't stopped.
"Well, then..." He shrugs. "I grew up in squalor, Zo. I learned to be quite OCD about cleaning at a very young age."