"Ready to cook?" Nate asks me, as soon as I walk in the kitchen.
"I was born ready," I tell him with a wink.
"What's your specialty?"
"Pancakes and crepes. I love making them for breakfast all the time. I tend to cook more sweet stuff because I have a big sweet tooth," I admit embarrassed.
"Don't we all," he says with a wink and leaves me to get all the ingredients together. He comes back with an armful of ingredients and places it all on the counter. "You make whatever you feel like eating, and I'll make us some bacon, eggs, sausage and hash browns."
"Sounds delicious."
"How do you like your eggs?"
"How are you having yours?"
"I asked you first," he responds amused.
"I'll have them however you're making yours."
"Fine but someday I shall know how you prefer your eggs," he tells me with a wink.
"Perhaps," I tell him with a grin and walk over to the counter to grab the ingredients I need to make some delicious buttermilk pancakes. "Do you happen to have bowls and measuring cups?"
"Yeah. Let me get them for you." He quickly finds what I need and gives me my space to do my thing while he pulls the ingredients he needs out of the fridge.
We both work hard while listening to music that he plays from his phone on his Bluetooth speaker, and to my surprise, he listens to a lot of the same music that I do. "I never would have taken you for a One Republic fan," I tell him as I mix all the ingredients together.
"Who doesn't like them?"
"A lot of people."
"Well, that's crazy because they're an incredible band. I like listening to them while I work," he admits.
"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I'm a professional photographer."
"Well that explains the camera the day we met, and all the gorgeous pictures in your room. I assumed it was just a hobby of yours."
"You still haven't forgotten about that day, have you?" he responds with a smug grin that brings a smile to my face.
"Nope and I don't expect to anytime soon."
"I'm not surprised and at this rate, I'm guessing you'll never let me live it down."
"Probably not," I respond with a sly grin as I finish mixing the pancake batter. "But it's okay because we're all good, remember?"
"I do remember," he responds with a chuckle and a shake of his head.
Silence settles between us as we work together to make breakfast but it's not uncomfortable in the least bit. And neither of us feels the need to fill it. When we are finally all done, we both sit at the table with our plate full of food in front of us. He stares at me and I stare right back.
"You don't have to wait for me to eat," he finally says and I raise my brow.
"I'm not taking a bite unless you do."
"Fine. We'll do it together." He grabs a sausage link and puts it up to his mouth. "Ready?" I nod and we both take a bite out of our food.
"Not only are you an incredible bartender, but you're also an amazing cook," I compliment him, savoring the bite of bacon I ate. "I guess I can now add cooking to your list of hidden talents."
"I bet you could beat me at cooking any day."
"I'm more of a pastry person, to be honest."
"Well if you ever need someone to taste test your pastries I would be more than happy to volunteer." I laugh and he realizes what he said. "Shit, I didn't mean it like that," he says slightly embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck nervously.
"I know. Relax. It was funny," I assure him and laugh some more at his expense. "You can taste my pastries anytime you want," I tell him with a wink before breaking into laughter. "Sorry, I couldn't resist," I tell him and wipe the corner of my eyes.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny," he says and throws a sausage link at me. It hits my chest and flops onto my plate. I gasp and he smirks
"You did not just throw that."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"This." I take a piece of egg and fling it at his forehead.
"Oh! It's on like Donkey Kong," he tells me and throws a piece of bacon at me. I laugh and throw something back and we keep going back and forth until he finally surrenders. I don't claim victory though, because I know he only quit because he was starving. Otherwise, he probably would have kept going.
We eat all the food and don't let any of it go to waste, not even the one we threw at each other. Most people would give us the side eye for eating food the other touched, but I could care less. I'm used to sharing food with others.
About an hour later we are all done and the dishes are all clean, and it's all thanks to our amazing teamwork.
"Now comes the messy part," he says, scrunching up his nose, which makes him look rather cute.
"A little mess never hurt anyone."
"It's more like a big mess."
"We'll clean it all up in no time."
"You sound too optimistic."
"Sometimes optimism is all we need. Now tell me, where are we going to be throwing away all of this trash?"
"In these," he says, holding out a large box of black trash bags.
I take a bag and lead the way into the living room and he follows after me. I start cleaning as soon as I step inside the messy space, and he doesn't hesitate to help me and helps me fill up bag after bag until his living room is left spotless.
"This looks so much better," I comment as I take in his clean living room that looks actually spacious now rather than cluttered and messy.
"Thanks for helping me."
"We're still not done yet," I inform him.
"What do you mean?"
"We still have to clean up outside."
"Shit! I completely forgot about the yard. Thanks for reminding me."
He leads the way outside and we take in the whole area and see that there is a lot of trash, but we know it isn't anything we can't take care of and immediately get to work until we finish.
"Now we're done," I tell him.
"And boy am I glad," he says with a sigh of relief.
"Now let me help you take out all the trash bags to the dumpster," I tell him, but he shakes his head.
"You've already done more than enough."
"Doesn't mean I can't help some more."
"I appreciate it, but I can do it on my own."
"So you're not going to let me help you?"
"No. What you are going to do is go inside my apartment and relax. In the meantime, I'll take care of the trash bags."
"I can help." I insist and he gives me a look that says no.
"Go take a break woman. I will finish this myself." He gives me a gentle push in the direction of his apartment. "Make yourself at home," he tells me before walking away to throw away the first of the trash bags.
I walk inside his apartment and plop down on the couch, determined to wait for him, but it seems like my body has other ideas in mind and gives out the moment I lean my head on the armrest of his couch.
"I'm up. I'm up," I mutter half asleep as the doorbell rings. I sit up to find that I am lying on Nate's couch, covered with one of his blankets.
"Lay down. I'll get it," Nate tells me and for once I don't put up a fight because I really am tired and am in no state to be answering the door. I hear him exchange a few words with someone at the door. Moments later he comes back in with two pizza boxes. "I hope you're hungry," he tells me and right on cue my stomach growls, answering for me. "I'll take that as a yes," he says with a laugh and places the boxes on his small coffee table. "I ordered four different halves because I wasn't sure what you liked, so hopefully I managed to get one right."
"You didn't have to do that."
"It's the least I can do when you helped me out so much today."
"Well, thanks. That was sweet of you."
I lift his blanket off me and sit up, feeling tired as can be. I stretch my arms and arch my back, wanting to feel some relief in my tired body, and notice that Nate has been watching me the whole time. I quickly lower my arms to my side and pretend I didn't just catch him staring.
He finally realizes he has been staring too long and turns his attention back to being a good host. I smile at his obvious embarrassment and feel giddy that he was openly staring at me just like I had been staring at him back in his room.
We grab our food and some drinks and get comfy on the couch to watch something while we eat.
"Is there anything you want to watch on TV?" he asks me as he turns it on and starts flipping through the channels.
"Not really," I mutter as he passes one of my favorite movies. "Wait! Go back." He goes back a few channels and I tell him to stop when he finds it. "Do you mind watching that?"
"I like Penelope. It's a good movie."
"You know what it is?" I ask him surprised and he chuckles.
"Yeah, my sister made me watch it with her."
"I haven't even met her and I think I like her already."
"She would like you too. I feel like you two would be great friends."
"Maybe I can meet her someday."
"You will," he says with a grin and I'm not sure what to make of his words. I smile nervously and turn back towards the TV as I mull over what he said. Does he actually want me to meet his sister? Or did he mean it as in I'm bound to run into her since we live in the same apartment complex? I don't know what to make of his words and just thinking about it is making me nervous.
"Don't forget to eat," he tells me with a grin before taking a bite from his slice of pizza. I put my cup on the side table on my end of the couch and dig in, enjoying each and every bite.
"Get more," he tells me after I finish both my slices and I shake my head.
"I'm good."
"Fine, take one of mine. I'll get more." He places a slice of pepperoni pizza on my plate and stands up to grab two more slices. "Eat it," he tells me amused as I get lost in the movie.
I grab the slice of pizza and bite into it while watching one of my favorite onscreen couples, and before I know it my slice is all gone. Nate offers me another one, but I adamantly refuse and put my plate on the side table, so he can't make me eat another slice.
We watch the movie in silence and I being the hopeless romantic that I am, get lost in it until I can no longer ignore that feeling I get when people are staring at me.
I turn towards Nate and notice that he isn't even bothering to hide the fact that he is openly staring at me. I swallow back nervously, feeling suddenly self-conscious because he won't stop looking at me. "Is something wrong?" I ask him, finally breaking the silence.
"No," he responds quickly. "Sorry, I...," he starts but struggles to find the right words. "Fuck! What is happening to me? I never struggle to say what's on my mind," he says frustrated.
"What is it? What can't you say?"
"Fuck it. I'm just going to come out and say it," he says nervously. "Alexa, I like you and I like you a lot."
"I-I don't know what to say," I stammer, feeling shocked at his admission. Despite it all, I can't help but doubt it, because it doesn't feel logical to me that a guy like him could like someone like me.
"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know," he responds and rubs the back of his neck, which I am starting to realize is a nervous habit of his.
"It's just hard for me to believe that a guy like you could like me," I admit, putting the truth out there.
"Why?" he asks in disbelief.
"Because you're perfect and I am far from it," I say bluntly and he shakes his head.
"That's not true. You just don't see what I see."
"What do you see?" I ask curiously, wanting to hear his answer.
"A beautiful, stubborn girl that I've been wanting to kiss since the very first day I met her," he tells me, making my heart beat a mile a minute.
"Oh," I answer stupidly, feeling tongue-tied.
"I want to kiss you," he adds, dropping his eyes to my lips that part on a gasp all on their own at his confession.
I open my mouth to answer him and will my tongue and my brain to work together to come up with some sort of response, but nothing comes out. It's as if I forgot how to speak completely but how can you blame me when the most gorgeous specimen to ever walk into my life just admitted he wants to kiss me? Me!
Is this real life? Someone pinch me.
When I don't respond and instead let my gaze fall to his lips, he takes that small gesture as an answer and closes the distance between us until our lips are only a hair's breadth away.
He lifts his eyes from my lips, meeting my gaze, and the moment I look into his electric blue eyes, I feel as good as gone, but just as I watch his lips start to close in on mine it dawns on me that I am moments away from losing my first kiss. I panic and jump up and step away from him, leaving him with a confused and hurt expression.
I feel my heart clench when I get a good look at the frown marring his face, hating that I put it there, but I can't help it. As much as I wish I was ready to give in to him and his full lips that I have no doubt would give me the first kiss of every girl's dreams, I'm not. I need to pace myself and these growing feelings that are starting to bloom deep inside me. I may feel for him more than I have ever felt for anyone but I'm not ready to tell him that, much less let him know that he's not just my annoying neighbor to me anymore. He's slightly more.
"I should go," I tell him, sounding like I'm out of breath, and make my way towards the door in a hurry, not caring that I'm practically making a fool out of myself.
"Wait!" he yells as I walk away from him. "Can't we at least talk about this?"
"I'll see you later," I tell him, completely blowing off his question and step out of his apartment.
"What about your shoes and your socks?" he asks me as he meets me at the door and that's when I realize I haven't put my shoes or socks on all day. Shit. I feel so stupid. He must have taken them off last night when he brought me to his room, and I just apparently forgot I wore shoes at all.
It's all his fault. He makes me forget everything. It's a miracle I even remember my own name.
"Keep them," I answer, not caring what he does with my shoes. I just know I need to put distance between us and fast. "I'll see you around!" I yell over my shoulder as I walk away from him, wanting to get away from him and his tempting lips.
Every step I take, makes me realize that I was doomed from the start. It was just a matter of time. I was falling and I was falling fast and hard.
The question is, will he catch me when I fall?