Piece of Cake | Ashton Irwin [au]

Seven

I follow Michael to the swing door which he holds open for me and walk back into the kitchen. Looking around, it’s much cleaner than the last time I came in here, although, when I look to my left and see the large sink piled up with baking pans and mixing bowls, I can tell that someone just decided to throw everything in there and call the place ‘clean enough’.

“Sorry,” Michael rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I tried to clean up as much as I could of Ashton’s mess, but I took the easy way out as you can see.” His eyes dart over to the sink that I took notice of seconds ago.

I laugh lightly and grab the fork off of the plate and point it at him. “I’ll give you props for at least trying,” I say, acting as if I’m impressed by the cleanliness of the place and stands next to me with amusement spread across his face.

I finally cut into the cake and take a bite. Once the moist sponge cake hits my taste buds, I can already tell that this entire thing is handmade. However, it’s the whipped cream that sends me through the roof. Blended into the cream are little chunks of fresh strawberries that sweeten the cream naturally and adds a little pink to the color.

“Damn,” I drag out the word, lacing it with the sweet sound of satisfaction.

“That good?” Michael raises his dark eyebrows, amused by my not-so-subtle reaction. I place the fork loaded with another piece in my mouth and nod happily. I wasn’t awake before, but if I were an athlete, I could probably run a marathon from the amount of energy that I have acquired. “Ash has never made shortcake before and I’m surprised for his first try,” he snags the last bit of cake that is on the plate and stuffs it inside his mouth, “he did a pretty damn good job.”

“Hey,” I complain, “That was mine.” A little bit of happiness was just stolen from me.

He grins smugly and takes the empty plate from my hand and places it with the rest of the dirty dishes. “So I found a place for you,” he says casually, leaning his weight against the metal counter.

“Really?” My spite towards him for eating my cake diminishes and is replaced with surprise mixed with gratitude. For telling him no more than twelve hours ago, he sure works fast. “Where?”

“A couple living in my complex is moving out and their place should be up for rent soon. I checked with them last night to make sure and they told me they’d be out by the weekend. The monthly rent isn’t that bad either. Mine is about five-hundred a month which is a steal in that particular neighborhood.”

“That’s it?” I ask in disbelief. That’s less than I pay now. “Now these aren’t cheap apartments right? There are no leaky ceilings or questionable stains on the floor? This is legit?” I have standards and living in a dump is not one of them.

He chuckles and bites his bottom lip. “I swear I’m not lying to you. If you want, you can come and check out what mine looks like for reference. All of the apartments look the same for the most part. They layout may be a bit different, but they’re generally the same.”

“I’ll have to take you up on that offer.” I was expecting it to take weeks before I found a new place to live, but here I am, already planning on how I’m going to furnish this place that I haven’t seen yet. “Thank you so much, Michael. It’ll be good to live somewhere where I know someone. And this will give us the chance to catch up and hang out more often.”

“I think you’ll like it. The people are nice and I’m sure you’ll make another friend or two while living there.”

“I’m already sold on the place even though I haven’t seen it yet. No need to continue your sale’s pitch.” I joke and hold my hand out in ‘stop’ gesture. “So when can I see it?”