His Beautiful Amore

{27} Bad Boys Always Have Daddy Issues

~Leata~

"Dead?" I repeat. "As in six feet under, 'dead'?"

"I don't know any other kind of 'dead', so, yeah, I guess."

We stare at each other in silence.

Until I dive across the table and throw my arms around Blake, hugging him tightly.

He freezes for a few seconds before his arms slowly snake around me and as he hugs me back.

"I'm not going to pity you, because I know how much pity sucks." I tell him. "I'm also not going to make you tell me how he died. I know you're not ready to tell me and it's none of my business."

"How the hell are your related to Ryder and Tyler?" He questions rhetorically.

"We all popped out of the same uterus." I say, making him chuckle.

"Hey, Amore?" He speaks a few minutes later, as we keep hugging.

"Yeah, Hotness?"

"Thanks."

"No problem."

*~*

"Amore, what are we making?" Blake questions as he watches me run around the kitchen, getting ingredients out of the fridge and cupboards.

"Oreo Cupcakes." Is all I say.

"Of course." I can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

"Alright, you mix the dry ingredients together." I instruct the Italian hottie as I preheat the oven. "I'll mix the wet ingredients and crush the Oreos."

"Okay, boss."

I roll my eyes, a small smile on my face.

I chuck a whole bunch of Oreos into a ziplock baggie and close it, using a rolling pin to crush them.

When I'm done, I put them next to Blake before starting to mix the wet ingredients.

"Amore?"

"Ye-" a handful of flour hits me in the face as I turn around. "Blah!" Flour shoots out of my mouth.

My heart melts when I see the usually emotionless bad boy laughing whole-heartedly.

He's beautiful.

Yeah, he is.

But that doesn't mean I'm not going to get him back.

I pick up an egg and throw it at him, nailing him in the forehead.

Blake stops laughing and glares at me, amusement swimming in his dark eyes as the yolk runs down his face. "Oh, its on."

He grabs the softened butter and smashes it on my head, rubbing it in.

I take the bag of flour from behind him and pour it all over his head.

He shakes his head, making the flour fly everywhere.

He then continues to grab the milk and pour it on my head.

I whip my hair, making it whack him in the face before I grab the butter from my head and rub it all over his face.

He take an egg from the island behind my and smashes it on my head, make yolk drip down from my hair to my face.

I make a move to get an egg, but he grabs my waist, spins us around and pins me against the fridge.

One look at his ingredient-covered face and I start cracking up.

Blake then starts laughing too.

I lean my head on his shoulder, still laughing.

"Aren't you two supposed to be at school?"