Why stop at just friends?

C H A P T E R | 14

My resting silence interrupted, I quietly opened the front door and moved out of the way. Phoenix immediately entered the hall, shoving past me and heading straight towards the kitchen, welcoming himself to feel at home here. No said hello or even a mumbled, rushed greeting, I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Why would I expect anything different? It's Phoenix.

Holding back a sigh, I shut the door, turned around and followed after him. I could see him curiously eyeing the leftover bowl of food on the countertop, which I was in the process of eating before I was interrupted by the sound of his repetitive, impatient knocks on the front door.

He glanced up at me with a pout. "None for me?"

"You said you were going straight from lunch to mine, so I assumed you already ate," I shrugged, ignoring the sight of his attractive genes and making my way back towards my seat.

After a paused moment, he abruptly kicked back the bar stool and sat down beside me. My body tensed. To tense that way was abnormal, I sit beside him during class, but this was a very different setting. It was just us, in my house, alone. No distractions, students or nagging teachers.

Not to mention his reaction a few days ago towards the changing partners ordeal that still had me conflicted.

It was actually his decision to study today, on a Sunday, and I had wanted badly to decline but for some reason, I couldn't convince myself to say no to him, which again, was abnormal.

"Look stupid, I ate and now I see food, so I want more- What is that anyway?" He started to lean closer, examining the dish. I'll pretend I didn't hear him call me stupid.

"Ravioli."

"OO," His face lit up like a candle. "Any more?" I shook my head and watched his expression drop. "Wow, you're this bad of a host?"

I shrugged, pushing aside the want to smile as I raised my fork to my lips. I could feel him still staring at me, and even more abnormal, I found myself purposely taking food off the fork in a more teasing, slow manner. What on earth was I doing?

He abruptly stood up, making me frown as I slid my gaze to him and slowly chewed my food. His face was stoic but his movement was rushed. He randomly picked a draw, which happened to be the cutlery draw, and opened it. Grabbing a silver fork, he rushed back to my side, plopped down on the black stool and stabbed a ravioli.

I blinked.

The nerve of this guy.

I could only watch as he ate and nodded his head, closing his eyes for a moment as he quietly chewed before reaching over to get more ravioli on his fork.

"Help yourself why don't you?"

He grinned. "I will help myself, you can't do anything about it." I only scoffed at his comment and ignored his playful stare.

"I can." My comment was halfhearted, a response not meant to be taken seriously.

"No you can't." He argued back, tone playful.

"I'll kick you out of my house."

"Do it then," I glanced up at him in surprise. He placed the fork back down into my bowl, letting it rest there as he held my gaze. "Kick me out."

My eyebrows pinched together. "Phoenix-"

"No," He licked his lips. "I want to see you try."

"No... I-"

"No?" He raised his eyebrows. I felt suddenly unsure of myself. "Do it. Kick me out."

"Uh... get out?" Was the best I had, still not taking this entirely serious but definitely feeling confused by it nonetheless.