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“Good morning, Elena.”

“Is it?”

He looks at me over the rim of his coffee cup. “It improved.”

Heat rushes into my face.

Absolutely not.

I put my notebook down and make a beeline for the refrigerator before he can see what one ridiculous sentence did to me.

The fridge is massive, with one of those stupid screens showing everything inside. I open it anyway and let the cool air hit my face. I can feel him staring.

My brothers hate when I stand in the doorway of the fridge, as if they don’t have enough money to pay seventeen electric bills at once.

“What are you looking for?” he asks.

I roll my eyes. I knew it was coming. The stupid questions like I’m an idiot. “Berries.”

“What kind of berries?”

I can hear him shuffle. I swear to God if that man comes near me. Heat rises with attitude. “Blueberries, raspberries, blackberries. Freaking berries, Luciano!”

A quiet laugh sounds behind me.

Then heat presses along my back.

It’s immediate and consuming.

That and his annoyingly attractive scent. I can feel his chest rise and fall, feel his breath ghost my hair as his arm reaches past me and he opens a drawer. There—lined up in perfectly clean containers are all the berries I named.

I inhale slowly. “Do you have coconut water?”

He steps back, giving me a moment to breathe.

I pull out the containers and place them on the counter.

I steal a glance, and he’s grabbing coconut water out of the pantry. He sets it down beside my berries.

“Anything else? I have cherries, mandarins, apples.”

“Cherries?”

It slips out before I can stop myself. I’ve always loved cherries, but they are like the desserts of fruit, up there with bananas, so I don’t have them for breakfast.

“Do you want the cherries?”

His voice drops over the question, and somehow he makes fruit sound like a proposition.

A ripple moves through me.

Get a grip, Elena. Getting hot over cherries is ridiculous.

“No, I shouldn’t.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

I suddenly find the blueberries fascinating.