Take Out Chef

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter's song: Kiss me by Sixpence Non The Richer (it's an old song, but a classic!)

"Wow. You certainly fished, huh?" Andy quipped as soon as he saw me.

My clothes were dripping, and I was in a funky mood, not quite sure about what was going on. The walk back was silent and Bryan glanced at me every other minute, but I was angry.

At me. At him.

At the whole thing in general.

Plus, I didn't have a stupid sleeping bag and now my clothes were all wet.

I glared at Andrew. A stay-out-of-my-way glare.

His brows creased, he tilted his head and opened his mouth to say something, but I walked away from him.

I need to change.

Monica was nowhere in sight as I got inside our tent. My backpack was next to her sleeping bag. The only one there. Sighing, I grabbed a fresh pair of clothes and went to the bathroom to change.

My bandages were dirty, so I took them off, cringing at the red slash I had. Slowly, I washed it with clear water and soap, hoping that it didn't infect or anything. I was drying it with paper towels, when Monica stumbled inside the rustic bathroom.

"There you are!" She rubbed a palm across her face, and her breathing was labored. She'd ran. "Andrew said you're either PMSing or something happened between you and Bryan."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not. Everything is fine." I patted my hand too hard and I cringed as the paper caught up with one of the knots from the stitches.

Monica stepped closer to me. She took the paper towel from my hand and threw it in the bin. She pulled another paper towel and carefully, helped me dry the wound. "Want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. "There's nothing to talk about. One moment we were fishing, and the next..." I glanced across the room. It was empty. "We were kissing, but I don't know what's going on. He kisses me whenever the hell he wants and the worst part is that I let him!" My tone was louder by the end of my rant. I bit my lip. I hoped no one heard that.

A slow smile crossed her face. My wound was better. "I think you should grab him by the shoulder and kiss the crap out of him in front of everyone!"

My shoulders sagged, I leaned against the sink, exhaling slowly. "The thing is, that I don't even know him." Monica snorted. "Like really know him. I know a bit about his family and such, but I feel like a stupid open book and he just gives me snippets."

"Then, make him talk to you."

"How?"

"By using your charms, Jess! You're gorgeous and he's nuts about you, that much is clear."

My cheeks flushed. "He's not."

Monica smirked. "He's been strolling around our tent for the last ten minutes with a clean bandage on his hands." I glanced at the door. It was open, but I couldn't see the camp site, where all the tents were. "He's head over heels for you, chica!" She leaned beside me and shoved me playfully by the hip.

I chuckled, my whole face feeling warmer. "He asked me out," I confessed, glancing at my shoes.

She shoved me on the hip once more but it was not playful at all, I almost lose my balance. "What the hell? Why hadn't you told me?" My friend placed both hands on her hips and glared at me.

I couldn't help but smile at her. Motherhood developed that kind of glare, I was sure. "It happened yesterday! We're going out on Saturday." Suddenly, I doubted it all. "I mean, he told me he wanted to take me out, that's a date, right? Because he never used that word and it could mean anything andꟷ"