My Match (Watty Awards 2013)

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

"HAPPY THANKSGIVING!" a voice bellowed, making me scream and sit upright, all traces of sleep gone. 

Suddenly, Max was hovering over me, his body thrown protectively over mine and all of his weight was resting on his knees and elbows. "What happened?" he asked frantically.

I let out a shaky laugh. "The er, wakeup call startled me," I admitted.

"William," Max scowled and got off of me. To be honest, I quite liked having him there. Wait, what am I saying?

I heard a distinct thud from downstairs and a loud groan. Then Kassia was yelling. "William! Shut up already! It's not Thanksgiving!"

I didn't hear anything else after that because Max started laughing out of the blue. I eyed him, waiting for an explanation. 

He wiped a tear from his eye. "I can hear Will's thoughts 'cause he left his guard down." 

I raised an eyebrow. "How's it funny?"

"These are his words, not mine. 'Oh my God, why is my mate so abusive? Ow! No! Ow! Why? GEROFF ME!'"

I burst out laughing, clutching my sides. "They are too funny."

"You don't say," he joked. "Oh, and Kassia said something about needing to get supplies for her quilt, and Will's going with her, so we're stuck in the kitchen all day making the food. That's okay, right?"

"I have to be stuck with you all day?" I playfully whined. 

 He flicked my nose. "I know, I know, I'm sorry," he grinned.

After we got dressed and ready, we went down to the kitchen and found that Kass and William had already left. I took out the binder full of recipes and flipped to the first one. 

By the time the hour hand hit five o'clock, I was just about ready to flop down on the ground and fall asleep. We'd been slaving away in the kitchen for hours. Max, as 'cheerful' as always, planted a kiss on the side of my neck, dangerously close to his claim. It burned, but in a good way.

"We've only got to do the pies and...I think that's it!" He whooped happily. "Finally!"

I laughed. "I'll get the flour, you go get the bowls and stuff."

When I managed to tug the enormous bag of flour into the kitchen from the food closet, I took a measuring scoop and pulled out a decent amount. As I was walking over to where Max was standing with the bowls, I tripped over my own foot and the flour-filled scoop went flying. It hit his back and flour exploded over his jeans and shirt. 

He made a noise of surprise and whirled around. "What the-"

I started laughing uncontrollably. His *ss was covered in white! "Y-your-" I tried to splutter out. While my eyes were glued to that area, I couldn't help but think, damn, my mate has a really nice *ss.

Max narrowed his eyes. "So this is how it's going to be," he had a glint in his eyes. Then, faster than my eyes could process, he was over at the flour sack and throwing a handful at my back.

I felt the impact and I spun around. "You did not just-" I was cut off by flour hitting my midsection. "Oh, it's on!" I shrieked.

I darted over to the flour and flung a handful at the back of his shoulders, but he whipped his head around and at that moment, it splattered on his face. I clapped my hands over my mouth.

He looked like a freaking ghost! I let a giggle escape my lips and he ran over to me, picked me up, and threw me over his shoulder as if I were as light as a rag doll. I screamed and beat his back with my fists. Not this again.