The Obscure Downsides of Fame (New Edition)

41 || flustered

"I will," I said, running up to my parents to give them both a big hug, and so that I could give my sister the finger right behind their backs. But as I lingered there, holding onto my parents for a bit longer than intended, my mind started spinning.

When was the right time to tell them?

"Te quiero," I said to both of them as I pulled away.

•••

"What do you want for dinner?" he asked me as we entered the kitchen. "I had the housekeeper stock the fridge this time."

"You're cooking?"

"Yeah, I've only ever baked you cookies, and made you breakfast or lunch, but I've never made you dinner before."

"Maybe it's time for me to cook you dinner," I said, leaning against the countertop.

"I thought you said you'd burn the house down," he said, leaning into me. My breath got caught in my throat as his grey eyes swiftly moved towards my lips. I wanted nothing more than for him to close the last bit of space between us.

"I..."

"You what?" he asked, a teasing smile as he leaned his arms on the countertop on either side of me.

"I might..."

"Am I getting you flustered, Oakley?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

One thing I'd learned about Nolan in the past couple of weeks was that we were polar opposites when it came to anything of sexual nature. Not just because he had much more experience than I did. Where I felt my confidence slip away with every little glance he took, his confidence grew. But all of it was worth it if it kept him happy. And god, did it seem to make him happy.

"I've already had dinner," I told him, staring into his eyes. 

"Okay," he said, looking down at my lips. "Then I'll make myself something real quick. I can cook you something tomorrow."

I nodded, and he smiled before creating some distance between us. "So I assume you'll be helping me?"

He opened the fridge and the way he looked at its contents almost mimicked the way he looked at me. And yes, it did put a bit of a dent in my ego.

He smiled contently as he pulled ingredients out of the refrigerator and then he looked at me.

"You can cut the tomatoes and onions."

"Oh, you really want me to do something?" This was going to end up a disaster.

"Yes, I'm not letting you sit on your ass and stare at me."

"In that case, I hope you like fingertips in your pasta," I said.

And I meant it, because I did nearly slice my finger off once and couldn't play anything that required my left ring finger for weeks.

I grabbed an onion as Nolan brought a pot of water to a boil. I grabbed the largest knife with a sharp point I could find and cut the ends off.

I knew how to get this far, but anything past this was pure improvisation.

I put the onion on its side and cut off more of the edge I'd already cut off, and not long after I felt Nolan watching over my shoulder.