Repairing the Hurt

Chapter 44

"What's that smell?" I ask Kota, my head on his chest and my fingers drawing circles on his stomach.

His chest rises as he inhales, sniffing the air. He quickly gathers me and sets me down on the bed next to him before he launches himself from me and races out the door.

I'm momentarily distracted by the bare butt I glimpsed.

"The pasta," I whisper to myself aloud. I sit up from the bed and reach down, collecting my green button up shirt and sliding it over my shoulders. As I grasp the first button, I realize it isn't my shirt, but Kota's. Should I still put it on? The girlfriend wearing the boyfriend's shirt after having sex is so cliche, but maybe he'll like seeing me in it. I finish buttoning the shirt before I can talk myself out of it. Standing, the hem hits a few inches below the base of my butt. My feet pad against the soft carpet as I leave my room, spying Kota with pot holders and nothing else on, taking the pasta out of the oven. He sets it on the stove and I can see a speckled layer of black on top.

Stepping closer, Kota hears me and turns in my direction, moving behind the counter to conceal himself, his face beat red. "Is that my shirt?" He asks, not really seeming to be interested in that question.

I finger the bottom hem, "I accidentally grabbed it instead of mine. I didn't think you'd mind." Now I feel awkward.

He shakes his head quickly, "No, I don't. You look good in my shirt." The corners of his mouth lift and I walk over to him, peering around his shoulder to see the pasta.

"I'm sorry," I apologize, turning back to him and threading my arms around his waist.

His arms go around my shoulders and his face is starting to calm down. "I didn't mind."

Now it's my turn for my face to burn. I turn back to the counter and grab a spoon from the side drawer, picking at the black top. "Looks like just the top burned. We can peel it off and still eat it."

Kota rests his head against mine, "We can toss it, it's okay."

Shaking my head, I pull down a bowl and spoon the unburned noodles inside, letting it sit for a minute since it's still really hot.

"You don't have to eat it," he repeats.

I blow on a single noodle and eat it. Oh word. "Kota this is heaven. Why have I been cooking for you all this time?"

His cheeks tint. There's been a lot of embarrassment the last day.

"I like it when you cook for me," he shrugs.

I hum, "Okay, then we'll switch off who cooks. Because this is heavenly and I'll definitely want it again." I take out another bowl and spoon more pasta, leaving it on the counter to cool.

"I'm going to grab some underwear," he mutters, pulling away.

I follow him and when he stoops down to pick up his boxers, I give him a firm push and watch him fall on the bed. I climb up next him and his face is bewildered, "What'd you do that for?"

I bend down and kiss him carefully on the mouth. "I don't want you to put your underwear on yet," I admit, a mischievous smile on my face.

His eyes search mine, trying to verify what he thinks I want.

My leg lifts over his body and I press my knee down on the other side of his hips, lowering myself to where we're touching. "Unless you want to put them back on?"

Kota shakes his head, his hands finding my hips.

I rub against him and he groans. Leaning forward, I slowly slide onto him, his hands guiding my hips to move against him.