Chapter Fifty Two
1451 Words
I woke up the next morning feeling more nervous than I should at the thought of meeting with him.
He was just a human being after all so there was no need to overreact and all.
Sadly, that wasn't how my body felt.
Overreacting was the word of the day.
I literally took a bubble bath for about thirty minutes, washed my hair for another thirty minutes (because of all the conditioners I added to make it smell nicer).
It took an extra fifteen minutes to pick the perfect dress that would look super cute and not reveal the fact I spent so long searching.
So at the end, I threw on a dark blue shirt with gray sweatpants and a gray parka coat, combined with grayish white sneakers.
This would certainly be perfect.
Especially since I left my hair to fall over my shoulders, then put on a gray beanie to add more beauty to this beauty.
Once done, I applied a little amount of makeup to not look like I was planning on impressing him (though secretly, I hoped I could).
When I left my room, Oliver was the first to come to view where she seemed to be searching for something, backing me.
“Morning, what's wrong?” I asked, noticing her limp was getting a little better.
Just a little.
“I don't know where Layla dropped my brush, she borrowed it yesterday and I haven't seen it since then, but she's gone out and forgot her phone so I can't call.”
“Are you heading somewhere?” I grabbed my gray purse, dropping my phone, tab, pen and card in it, then grabbed my car key
“Hmm, I've got to go to Church,”
“Are you sure you're physically fit to do so?” Worry etched my expression, but she waved a hand, brushing it off, her back still facing me as she rummaged through the drawer.
“Yeah yeah, can I use your brush, just for today?” She finally turned, and immediately, a teasing smile crept up her lips at my sight.
I couldn't help rolling my eyes, “yeah you can, bye.”
Before she could tease, I'd rushed out of the door to my car.
***
My feet stopped in front of his door, followed by me drawing several breaths to calm down before ringing the bell.
We hadn't really seen each other after the kiss.
What would we say? Will there be awkwardness?
I just had to hope he was smart enough to not discuss it any longer, but from what I knew about him, there was a chance he'd bring it up.
The door swung open to reveal his figure clad in a casual blue shirt with black trousers.
“Hey,” a smile appeared on his lips as his gaze travelled me from head to toe before returning to my face, “you look nice.”
Those three words alone was enough to make all my efforts worth it.
But I returned them with a smile, “thanks,”
“Come in,” he made way for me to.
Which was what I did, but didn't forget to get a whiff of his scent as I walked past him.
Gosh, he smelled so good.
His house was warm, so I brushed off the coat, placing it on the coat rack.
“Did you have breakfast?” He asked as we ambled into the parlor where I invited myself to a seat on the sofa.
“No,”
“What do you say to bacon and eggs?” He was already making way to the kitchen, even before I replied that I'd eat it.
Soon, we were sitting opposite each other on the dining table, a plate of beautifully decorated meals of bacon and eggs, laying in front of us.
“Thanks,” a small smile found its way on my lips, as I took a bite of the meal.
If I said it tasted good, then I was underselling it.
The sweet taste danced around my taste bud, making them swim with each contact.
It seemed enough to make the toughest of people drool.
My head fell back, followed by my eyes shutting as a moan escaped my lips.
“Do you like it?” He asked from where he sat at the head of the table.
“This is heavenly,” that wasn't a word that fit how great it tasted.
When I opened my eyes, I couldn't help asking, “have you always been a good cook?”
A smile tugged up his lips, “you can say so.”
“But weren't you born in wealth, I didn't expect you to be able to cook.”
He shrugged, taking a bite of his, “I learned how to cook when I started basketball.”
That made me raise a brow, “they don't feed you well?”
I always thought players were provided with food, wasn't that how it worked?
When he started, I continued eating, “we are provided with meals, but sometimes I don't like the types of food they make so I decided to make it how I'd like it to be.”
“Wow,” my heart melted at how cool this guy was.
He was even a great cook. How impressive.
“Thanks though,” he held my gaze, transforming my heart from melting to a marathon race.
How did he have such effect on me? Geez.
But I didn't break the gaze, instead, searched my brain for something to say to calm my heart.
Surely it was bound to calm if we were involved in a conversation.
“And how did you learn how to cook? Surely you didn't just start cooking and become really good at it.”
It was possible, but that'd only make him look more cool.
A smirk replaced the smile and I had to resist turning to his lips where memories of how great he tasted would come flooding back.
Instead, I didn't break the gaze.
“I was taught by a friend,” he replied coolly.
“Who's this friend that's so good?” My breathing was almost seized with the unwavering locked gaze.
But I liked how it made me feel.
“It was actually Susa— Suzy, she's the one who taught me.”
That name alone was enough to ignite irritation inside of me.
Suddenly, the food no longer tasted that good and I found myself breaking the gaze with furrowed brows.
“Is something wrong?” It was obvious from his tone he hadn't expected that change of attitude.
“Is there a reason you wanted to meet today?” My tone came out with steel as an emotion erupted in me.
An emotion I would rather not dwell on.
Because thoughts of Suzy being close enough with him that she teaches him how to cook only angered me further.
Were they so close? In a kitchen. Learning how to cook. Alone.
They were both humans with emotions.
A male and female who'd long entered puberty.
No one needed to tell me twice that at least once, things would've moved past just cooking.
Thoughts of them kissing ran to my thoughts, only frustrating me further.
Who knows, what if they'd advanced to something more intimate.
Like what if they had had…
“Are you alright?” Austin's tone cut through my thoughts.
Which was probably good, because I didn't want to start seeing images of him having s*x with Suzy.
That made me shudder.
Worse of all, I wasn't sure why it annoyed me so much.
Could I be… jealous?
No.
Nope.
Not jealousy.
More like annoyance to hear my rival's name.
Yes.
That was it and not an excuse I was trying to make.
So I brushed it off by answering his question, “I'm okay, I just want to know why you called so we can get going with the teaching and I leave.”
He stared at me as though trying to read through me, before letting a defeated sigh.
“Are you busy on Wednesday?” He asked, causing a crease to take form on my forehead.
“No? Why?”
“You're going to my company's charity event as my girlfriend,”
“Huh?”
No. That wasn't good.
I needed to avoid him, not go to events with him where we would certainly be close enough to let there be sparks.
What if what happened on Monday repeats itself?
Worse of all, what if we're not able to stop the emotions and end up getting deeper.
Like in bed…
- Writer
