Make Your Move by Samantha Hunter Page B

want to go down to the Waffle House? I’m starved,” he said, sliding a sexy grin in her direction.
    Hon? Waffles? Jodie’s thoughts echoed. “You want waffles?” she asked, incredulous as he crossed over, planted a light kiss on her lips and ruffled her hair.
    “Yeah, sounds good. You know, on average, people our size and weight will burn around one-hundred-fifty calories per hour during the typical sexual encounter. I figure after what we did last night, which was far from typical, and how many times we did it, we definitely can indulge in waffles. Maybe bacon,” he said with wicked enthusiasm.
    Jodie didn’t move. How could he stand here and act as if everything was normal, as if they hadn’t just pulled the very foundations of over a decade of friendship from the roots?
    It was hard to believe what she was hearing, and yet again, maybe not. This was Dan. He was able tocompartmentalize his life even more so than she could. For him, everything had a rational explanation.
    She wasn’t sure what made her angrier—that he’d used chemically enhanced cologne to seduce her, or that he could be so casual about banging her brains out all night, or that she was so upset about it. She was supposed to be the one who walked away, who was casual in the morning.
    “You can get whatever breakfast you want,” she said coolly. “Apparently you’re very good at getting what you want. By any means necessary,” she added, unable to keep the hurt from her voice.
    “What do you mean, Jodie?” he asked, but he wasn’t sounding casual now, just a bit confused. “You know exactly what I am talking about!” Jodie said between her teeth, trying to force back tears and hating how her emotions were taking over. “You used that cologne, your new special formula, to seduce me! I was an experiment, ” she said, her voice breaking as she turned her back on him, gulping down the sob that threatened to escape.
    Jodie would not give any man the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Her father was the last man who’d done that—but that was when she was nine, and she’d never let it happen again. Dan touched her shoulder and she yanked away.
    “Jodie, please,” he said, and she put up her hand, turning her head away from him.
    “No. I don’t even want to hear it. I thought we were more to each other than that. I always thought you were…different,” she said, suddenly exhausted again.“But you’re not. So I hope you enjoyed it, and you can just leave now, okay? Just go get your breakfast,” she said, walking to the bathroom and into the shower.
    She didn’t want to see him go, she realized, and sank under the hot water, having a good cry, all by herself.
    When she came back out, feeling like crap but intent on starting her day, she pulled on some clothes and thought about breakfast. She was so hungry she could smell food, no doubt from her neighbors. Apparently Dan was right about one thing—she probably had burned all of the calories from the cookies she’d consumed in their hours of crazy sex.
    She walked into the kitchen, expecting to be alone, and found Dan there, sitting at the table with coffee he’d apparently made.
    She didn’t know Dan could make coffee.
    He was reading a paper, and looked up, meeting her gaze steadily. “I made some breakfast. Sit down, get some food, and let’s talk this out,” he said matter-of-factly.
    She didn’t know he could cook, either. She’d always brought food to him, and assumed he ate out the rest of the time. She hadn’t known he’d be dynamite in bed—or how far he was willing to go to get her there.
    “Well, aren’t you just full of surprises,” she said stiffly, moving over to the stove.
    The eggs staying warm in the pan smelled spicy and made her mouth water, so though she wanted to tell him to stick his eggs where the sun didn’t shine, she crossed the room and filled her plate, grabbing some toast from a plate on the stove, as well. Coffee was already pouredfor her by