Pretending (Westshore Series #1)

Chapter Nine: Food Fight

Warner and I agree to meet in the kitchen at 1 pm to start cooking for the Law society Thanksgiving event. I am running late because I went for a run on an actual trail by the University and got a bit lost. After finally getting back to the dorm and showering I find Warner busy in the kitchen, there are blenders whizzing and pots and pans on the stovetop. He has a chopping board in front of him and is going at the vegetables like a pro. 

For a second I just stand there fixated by his skill and feel slightly embarrassed by the fact the only time I tried to cook I ended up almost starting a fire. The best part of the scene is the "Kiss the Chef" apron he has tied around his waist.

 "Done drooling?" 

"I was just in shock that you were brave enough to wear that in a public space." I chuckle and take a seat opposite the kitchen counter.

"This," he points to his apron, "is new and cost me fifty bucks; I don't care if I look like one of the real Housewives of New Jersey."

I snort not used to hearing him talk like this, "Wow I didn't know Warner Brooks watched reality tv. Between your apron and your bad taste in tv shows, you have really lost a lot of your street cred today. You've gone soft."

He gasps audibly and before I know it he's thrown a fistful of flour at me, "Take that back." He says and I just sit there in shock grimacing at the bitter powdery taste in my mouth.

"You idiot! I just showered." I whine trying to dust off the flour from my face, my hair and my brand new sweater!

"You questioned my masculinity, bad move Jules."

"You're so so...!" In frustration and mostly annoyance, I grab the nearby apple juice and throw it at him.

Though when I realize what it is that I've done I gasp in shock and cover my mouth with my hands.

Oh My God.

Did I just...?

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to...you were there and I got angry and I'm so sorry." My voice is muffled because I covered my face with my hands and peek through my fingers to see how pissed off he is but to my surprise he looks...amused?

Okay.

"What?" I ask him as I finally uncover my face and he in all his apple juice-drenched glory smiles at me. I wonder if he has suffered any serious brain damage between the hours last night and now.

"You splashed juice all over my face," he muses smilingly somewhat eerily.

"Yes, Einstein I did! That doesn't explain why you're smiling like Jiggly Juliet did when she smells pizza"

He bursts out laughing at that and his laughter is so infectious that I find myself joining in.

When he stops laughing, he takes a tea towel and wipes his face clean. The apron he tried so hard to protect is now stained so obviously, he does what he considers is the most rational move.

He takes it off.

My eyes widen and my breathing falters watching him slowly shrug out of the now sticky material. It's like watching an Abercrombie and Fitch commercial only better because his body is so much better than any of their photoshopped models. I withhold a sigh while he uses the towel to wipe off his stomach and I nearly faint when I see his six-pack.

"Try not to burn the dorm down while I put these in the laundry bag." He chuckles leaving the kitchen with me standing there feeling absolutely star struck. I stare at his broad smooth-skinned back and the indentations of his muscles while he walks away from me and to the laundry room.