CHAPTER 17
1088 Words
Luna was still trying to compose herself when Nico came down the stairs.
He’d already changed. Shower-fresh, scent of his cologne strong in the air. His body looked sharper like this — relaxed, dangerous, and unfair.
Luna forced herself to look normal. Her eyes flickered over him once before she looked away. His hair was still wet, dark strands falling over his forehead. He wore loose gray sweatpants and a plain black T-shirt that clung to his chest. He looked like the hot neighbor next door. The kind that ruined women’s sleep.
She cleared her throat. “You’re not going back to work?”
Nico dropped onto the couch, laptop balanced on his knees. He glanced up, hair still damp. “Working from home today.”
His voice was lazy. His eyes scanned the apartment and landed on the kitchen counter. The barely-touched lasagna sat there, cold and abandoned.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not hungry? You barely touched the lasagna.”
Luna crossed her arms. Calm. Reserved. “I am hungry. I just wasn’t in the mood for lasagna.”
Nico leaned back, studying her. “So what are you in the mood for?”
Luna smiled suggestively.“If SOMEONE could just help me prepare pasta… I’ll eat it”
Nico’s mouth curved. Sharp as usual. “Why would I cook for you, Luna? In your dreams.”
"Didn’t you say you were a good cook?"
Luna frowned
"I never said I'd cook for you"
"Or you're just all bark and no bite" Luna smirked trying to trick him
Nico laughed under his breath. Low and amused. Reverse psychology doesn't work on me Luna, What are you? 5? You don’t know how to cook and you want me to do it? That’s bold.”
Luna glared at him, pouting. “I can cook. I’ll cook it myself.” She got up fast, chin raised high
“Don’t burn down my kitchen,” Nico said without looking up from his laptop. “Insurance doesn’t cover that.”
Luna ignored him. She walked to the kitchen, pulled up YouTube on her phone, and searched ‘how to cook pasta for beginners’.
Nico watched her from the living room. Secretly. From behind his laptop screen.
Luna started making mistakes immediately. She put the wrong pot on the stove. Added salt before the water boiled. Almost grabbed the pan with her bare hand. She mixed ingredients in the wrong order and added triple the amount of garlic because “the recipe said cloves and these looked small.”
She almost burned herself when the oil splashed.
Nico couldn’t take it anymore. He closed his laptop and walked into the kitchen.
Luna jumped. “I’m fine—”
“You’re about to burn the building down,” Nico cut in. His tone was sharp, but his eyes were soft. “Move.”
Luna giggled happily, clapping her hands like a child. “You’re helping me?”
Nico sighed. “Unfortunately.”
He cleared the counter and started over. Luna stood beside him, eager to learn, being a cute assistant and handing him everything he asked for.
Nico kept his sharp tongue the whole time. “Salt.”
Luna immediately passed it, beaming. “Here!”
“Strainer.”
She grabbed it before he finished speaking. “Got it!”
“Garlic. Not the whole bulb, Luna.”
She froze with three cloves in her hand and pouted. “But they’re small—”
Nico pinched the bridge of his nose. “One clove. Unless you want me to taste onions for a week.”
“Fine,” Luna muttered, but she was still smiling. She passed him the pan towel next. “Here. Cute assistant reporting for duty.”
Nico’s mouth twitched. “You’re supposed to stir, not attack the pot. Do you want to cook or fight it?”
Luna stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re mean.”
“And you’re terrible,” Nico shot back. Then his voice softened without him realizing. “Here. Like this.”
He moved behind her to guide her hands on the spoon. Nico was at her back, raising her arms slightly. He was trying to hide his smile and his furnace for her, but Luna felt it. His chest was warm against her back. His cologne was everywhere.
Luna couldn’t maintain eye contact. Her face flushed. She stared at the pot instead.
Nico noticed. He leaned closer, voice low by her ear. “Flustered, Luna? All this for pasta?”
Luna’s grip tightened on the spoon. “Shut up.”
Nico chuckled. He kept his quipped remarks coming the whole time, teasing her, flirting a little.
“Hand me the cheese,” he said.
Luna passed it, standing on her toes. “Like this?”
“Yeah. Good girl. Like that.” His voice dropped.
Luna’s ears burned.
“See? You don’t need YouTube,” Nico murmured. “You need me.”
Luna rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away. “Arrogant.”
“Accurate,” he said. Then sharper: “Taste this. Tell me if it needs more salt.”
Luna blew on the spoon and tasted it. Her eyes lit up. “It’s perfect.”
Nico leaned against the counter, watching her. “Of course it is. I made it. You just stood there looking cute.”
“I helped!” Luna protested, passing him a plate. “I was your cute assistant!”
“You were a disaster who didn’t burn my kitchen down,” Nico corrected. But he took the plate from her anyway, fingers brushing hers. “Good job, Luna.”
Luna beamed. She kept handing him things, asking questions, trying to get it right for him.
“Why do you add butter last?” she asked.
“So it melts smooth, not greasy,” Nico answered, then smirked. “Pay attention, student.”
“Yes, Chef Moretti!!" Luna saluted him with the spatula.
Nico laughed under his breath. “Don’t salute me with kitchen weapons.”
When the pasta was finally done, Luna tasted it and her eyes lit up. She looked at him, clapping again. “It’s good! Because you helped.”
Nico wiped his hands on a towel. He looked at her — cheeks pink, hair messy, smiling at him like he’d hung the moon.
His sharp mouth opened, but what came out was softer. “Eat, Luna.”
She did. And for once, she wasn’t fighting alone in the kitchen.
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- Writer
