Sugar Coated

9. It's All My Fault, Just Like Everything Else.

9. It's All My Fault, Just Like Everything Else.

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A solid month has passed by and there hasn't been any word of Anthony.

Which made me nervous.

It was a good thing but also a bad thing at the same time. When I knew he was around, I at least knew where to avoid and that he was around. He could be anywhere right now-

"The pasta is boiling over." Chris' voice scared me out of my thought as he pulled me back and turned the stove off. I watched the boiling water, bubble over the rim and splash onto the tile floor.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Why? It's just pasta water. You okay? Did any splash on you?" I shook my head. "I got dinner, you just relax." He chuckled, planting a kiss on my forehead. "This is the one time where I have to say a woman doesn't belong in the kitchen." He teased bending down to wipe up the water.

"Hey-"

"I'm kidding, but I seriously got the rest of dinner. You've been weird, what's wrong with you?" He shouldn't be cooking.

"I can cook, you were at work all day, you shouldn't be cooking." I chose to avoid his question.

"Boiling pasta and sauce. You think that's tough?" He cocked a brow. "

"I just feel-"

"Hennessy. Why are you acting so odd?" He smiled back at me. I was sitting on the bar stool, messing with an apple I pulled out of the fruit bowl.

"No reason. Just my inner thoughts, that's all." I shrugged. Why couldn't my mind just put this to ease. It's been 7 months and my mind still won't just leave behind my fears. I just want to move on from that part of my life and start new.

"Just ignore it for one night. I got some things that happened in my past too, but I just put away and move on." I liked seeing him cook... Now if only he'd take off his shirt.

"I think I need to see a counselor or a therapist."

"If that's what you want, all you have to do is say you really want to and we'll find you a therapist or counselor."

"Okay."

"Or you could come to me as your therapist." He said with a smirk as he turned around and leaned up against the counter. "My methods are pretty damn good."

"Not while I'm this far along." I said a little bashfully.

"So stubborn but you always know I'm down to give you a good therapy session."

"In 2 months, I'll take you up on your offer."

"I'ma mark my calendar and you can't cancel once it's written down." He turned back around to mix both contents in the pots.

"Can you take off your shirt?" I said with a small chuckle.

"Why?"

"Because you'll look better with your shirt off while you cook. It's a treat to me too."

"Nah, I'ma just keep my shirt on, but I like where your mind is." My mind is focused on you dragging me upstairs, ripping off my clothes and just feeling, touching, and kissing me everywhere.

"My mind could be elsewhere-"

"I'm sure it could. Can you grab two plates and utensils?" I nodded my head and hopped off my stool, walking over to the cabinets. I laughed when I stood on my tippy toes but my stomach kept bumping into the edge of the counter. "There's a lot of laughing coming from over there, the hell you doin'?"