“In my last apartment when we had rain like this, all the power went off,” Aiden says when he ushers Beto in.
“Really?”
“I put out candles in case. Are you hungry?”
“Pretty hungry,” Beto says, kicking off his shoes near the front door so he isn’t making the floor wet. The last thing he wants is to be the reason Aiden slips.
Aiden is already at the stove, lifting a lid on a pan. “Not that I don’t like the weather here usually, but I love when it’s a day that needs warm, comfort food.”
Since Aiden’s back is to him, Beto has the urge to rest his hands on Aiden’s waist and lean against him. The urge is so vital that it brings him to a shuddering stop, freezing his tongue before he can answer.
“It smells good.”
“I hope it is. I made it last night; you know how everything always tastes be
