Chapter 4 Crossing Boundaries

• A downpour pounded on Grace's bedroom window on Sunday morning. She listened to the rain and the strange noises of other people moving around her flat while she lay awake. On weekends, when she would rather sleep in, she hardly ever heard the sound of the coffee maker gurgling to life.
• She dragged herself out of bed and sighed. Max would have to change her weekend schedule if she was going to be an early riser.
• She saw him stirring something that smelled so good in the kitchen, barefoot, wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt.
• "Morning," he said, smiling as he glanced up. "Hope I didn't wake you."
• Grace lied and accepted the coffee mug he handed. "The rain did," she said. "What are you making?"
• “Just batter for pancakes.” I intended to prepare breakfast prior to my shift. He paused. "There's plenty if you want some."
• She took cereal and yogurt for Sunday breakfast while checking her work emails. However, the smell of the cinnamon and vanilla was too strong to ignore.
• "That sounds nice," she said.
• With rain streaming down the windows, they dined in the quiet of the tiny kitchen island. As expected, Max's pancakes were light, fluffy, topped with fresh berries and caramelized edges.
• Grace remarked, "These are amazing," in between mouthfuls.
• Max had a satisfied expression. “Brown butter is the secret ingredient.” improves everything.
• "You didn't have to cook for me again."
• "I like cooking for people who appreciate food." Her coffee cup was filled again by him. "Most of my restaurant customers are too busy posting pictures to actually taste what they're eating."
• Despite herself, Grace grinned. Max had an endearingly real quality that she hadn't anticipated from someone with his good looks and charisma.
• She inquired, "What time is your shift?"
• “Close at noon.” Sunday brunch crowd. He winced. "Demanding bunch."
• When Grace stated, "I have a deadline tomorrow," "Need to finish a review of the new Ishiguro novel."
• "The one about the AI companion?"
• Grace gave a startled blink. "You've read it?"
• “Not just yet.” However, I have it on my list. At her look, he shrugged. "What? Are chefs incapable of reading literary fiction?
• "I just didn't expect..." Embarrassed, she trailed off.
• "That I'd know who Kazuo Ishiguro is?" He smiled without offense. "I may not have a literature degree, but I do read more than cookbooks."
• Grace's cheeks were heated. "I apologize. I was being presumptuous.
• "Forgiven." He picked up their plates. "I should get ready for work."
• Later that afternoon, Grace was having trouble concentrating on her review as the rain kept beating down on the windows.
• Despite having lived alone for years prior to Max's arrival, the flat felt oddly empty without him.
• Three hours ahead of schedule, her mother's weekly call came on the phone as she was getting ready to make another cup of tea.
• "Mom? Is everything alright?
• Her mother said in an audible voice, "Everything is okay, dear," "Your father and I will be going to the Hendersons' anniversary dinner this evening, so I thought I'd call early."
• “Oh.” Of course.
• "How are you? Too much work still?"
• Grace let out a sigh. “I'm all right, Mom.” Although busy, the work is good.
• “Have you made any new friends?” Nearly a year has passed since David.
• The well-known query fell with its customary force. “No, mother. I haven't been seeing anyone.”
• "Well, Grace, you aren't getting any younger. It's twenty-six…."
• Grace cut in, "I know how old I am," "I do have some news, actually. My roommate has changed."
• A pause occurred. “A roommate?” However, you consistently stated that you liked living alone.
• "Financial necessity," said Grace. "The rent increased."
• "Is she nice, at least?"
• "He," Grace said differently. "And yes, he's... nice."
• One more, lengthier pause. "A roommate who is male? Is that smart, Grace?
• “Mom, it's quite natural.” He works at Luciana's as a cook. Elena gave us an introduction.
• "Well, if Elena vouches for him..." The tone used by her mother implied that Elena's judgment was at best dubious. “Just exercise caution, my love.” "Men can be."
• Grace blurted up, "I know, Mom," unwilling to hear any generalization that might be forthcoming. “I have to leave.” Tomorrow is the deadline.
• Grace pulled herself from the call and went back to her review with a newfound resolve. She had just finished three paragraphs when Elena texted her on her phone.
• "How's domestic bliss with Chef Hottie? 😘"
• Grace gave an eye roll. "We're roommates, not newlyweds."
• “That does not negate how attractive he is.” "Interesting."
• "Don't you have a bar to run?"
• “Multitasking.” Will you be attending tomorrow's trivia night? "Bring Max!"
• Without responding, Grace put her phone down. Elena's matchmaking was the last thing she needed. Max was simply her roommate. It didn't matter that he was attractive, smart, and amazingly intelligent.
• After completing her evaluation around seven o'clock, Grace treated herself to a nice bath and a glass of wine. She heard the front door open just as she was getting comfortable with a book. It took Max hours to get home.
• He stood in the kitchen, looking all tired and soaked, when she came out of her room.
• She murmured, "You're quite early," trying to overlook the way his damp shirt clung to his chest.
• "I was sent home by the chef. Sluggish night due to the storm. He combed his wet hair with his hand. "I'm going to shower and change."
• Grace offered, "I'll make some tea," before she could stop herself.
• Grace had two mugs of tea ready when Mason came out of the bathroom, still with wet hair and wearing new clothing. With gratitude, he took one and sank down on the couch next to her.
• She said, "Rough day?"
• "Just long." He sipped his tea. "It's good. Thank you.
• The rain pattered against the windows while they sat in cozy silence. It felt strangely comfortable having Max next to her, as though they had been sitting on this couch for years rather than days.
• When Grace finally remarked, "I finished my review,"
• "Ishiguro? How did it go?
• “Destructive, but brilliant.” "As usual."
• Max gave a contemplative nod. "His books always leave me feeling hollowed out, but in a good way."
• Grace tucked her legs under her as she turned to face him. “What else do you read”?
• They talked about anything from movies to books to music with ease. Max has an extensive range of preferences; he loves to read mysteries and science-fiction novels in addition to classic novels. He listens to music when cooking and prefers movies that are independent over blockbusters.
• "I wouldn't have pegged you as a jazz fan," Grace acknowledged the statement.
• "There's so much you don't know about me yet," Max stated while staring her in the eye.
• His eyes made her heart skip a beat. She averted her gaze as she became extremely aware of their near proximity and the enveloping silence of the room.
• She said, "I should probably get to bed," and got up suddenly. "Early meeting tomorrow."
• Max nodded, a hint of disappointment possibly visible on his face. "I appreciate the tea. As well as the dialogue.
• Grace leaned against the locked door of her bedroom and wished her heart would slow. The complexity of attraction and the dissolving of boundaries were precisely what she had feared. Max was simply her roommate. She couldn't afford to fall in love with someone who lived twenty feet away and could leave her life as quickly as he had entered it.
• Nevertheless, as she laid in bed and listened to him move around the living room, she kept thinking about what it would be like to go across the hallway, knock on his door, and find out if the expression in his eyes had meant what she had assumed.
• Rather, determined to uphold the boundaries she had so meticulously outlined, she rolled over and raised the blankets. regardless of how tempting it may be to betray them.