Piece of Cake | Ashton Irwin [au]

Twenty-three

"You wouldn't get dressed, so I had to take initiative. Now, hurry up. We only have a few hours."

"For what?"

"Private lessons."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, woman." My playful tone lessens her tension and her gaze fixates to the clothes in her hands. "Trust me, okay? I haven't let you down yet."

Her shoulders slump and she drags her feet to the bathroom but not before muttering an indiscreet 'asshole' to me. Ah, just like old times.

With some added persuasion and deep apology for waking her up, Ruth agrees to my spontaneity. A slither of hatred still consumes her as we drive downtown, but I blame her exhaustion for that. I park in the lot behind the bakery and dig out the gentleman within in by rushing to the other side of the car and opening the door for her. It's the least I can do.

"We're not breaking in, are we?" she asks, rejecting my hand as she pulls herself out of the car.

I dangle my keys in front of her. "It's not breaking in when you have a key, sweetheart." I unlock the back door to the bakery and flip on the breaker switch to the kitchen; rows of lights flicker on, illuminating the room. I'd like to say the kitchen is absolutely spotless, but the silver whisk someone left lying on the counter ruins that.

"I'm still confused why you brought me here," Ruth says, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. I never really take notice of how cold it is in here. I should have pulled a jacket for her before we left.

"I already told you. I'm giving you a private lesson."

"And you had to do this in the middle of the night? Couldn't you have chosen a better time?"

Time wasn't my concern. Wanting to see you was. "Where would the fun in that be?"

"The fun would be me sleeping and not standing here questioning if your ego has taken over your entire being and has ridden you of your judgment of sanity."

"My ego has nothing to do with this." My sanity is a different story. "Now, are you ready for your lesson?"

"Can I pick a different instructor?"

"Hate to break it to you but I'm your only option."

"Dammit," she huffs. "I guess you'll do. At least I'm not paying you."

"No, but tips are welcomed."

Her irritated demeanor fades as her playful side finally makes its appearance. This is the side that's keeping me up all hours. The side that I'm becoming more and more infatuated with each day I see her.

"So, what are we making?" she asks.

"Chocolate cream puffs but with a twist."

"What's the twist?"

"They're going to look like swans," I say. "Literally anyone can make these because they're so easy."

"You must not know me very well," she jokes.

"Not as much as I'd like to." My serious tone catches her off guard, the humor trickling down her face. "You're still a mystery to me, Ruth. Don't be so keen on this thing between us still being a game."

She shifts her gaze away from mine and turns to grab two aprons off the hook rack. She tosses one to me and ties the second one around her waist. "Can I ask you something before we get started?"

I slip my head through the neck hole of the apron, tying a sloppy knot in the back. "Shoot."

"Why do you insist on being around me?"