for June

8. Bottom's Up

June had fallen asleep with the book clutched in her grasp. When she woke, the house was wafting with a wonderful aroma that sent her tummy rumbling. Chad was cooking. She stole herself into the kitchen where he busily stirred a saucepan full of some concoction that made her mouth salivate.

"You cook?" she asked, pleasantly surprised. In fact, Chad was a surprising guy she was finding. Layers that seemed so random, yet so him.

Chad jumped, splattering a spoonful of tomato sauce on himself and the floor. "Aw, Jesus!" He turned with a dollop of sauce clinging to his left cheek. June couldn't help but laugh. She walked on over, ran a finger across the sauce on his cheek and tasted it with a grin.

"It's good." She watched him blush as she leaned against the basin. "What is it?"

"One-pot rice I learned from a friend." He wiped his face on his apron, an apron that was a bit too frilly and looked ridiculous on him. An apron June was eyeing meticulously.

"It's a cute look on you." Her brows danced as she grabbed the spatula off him and went to stir the sauce and lick the spoon. "Was it a present?"

Chad glanced at the pink, strawberry patterned apron with black frills at the bottom. It made him look like a ridiculous version of a pin-up girl. "It was my ex's." He pursed his lips. No sooner had he said this, he took the embarrassing thing off and threw it across the benchtop. He disappeared into his study and emerged with an expensive-looking bottle of red still in its original wooden crate. "You drink?"

June took another taste of the sauce and licked her lips. "I'm a lightweight."

"That's all right. I'm not any better myself." He fished out a wine bottle opener from the drawer behind her, shoving her out of the way gently to do so. He popped the cork, took a long sniff of the neck and poured it out into two wine glasses. He passed her one before pouring a dash into the sauce followed by the soaked rice. He stirred it once, put a lid on it, and lowered the gas before turning back to his company.

June took a sip of her wine and almost pulled a face. It was a strong taste. "How long have you had that? It's not off, is it?" she asked, dubiously eyeing the bottle.

Chad glanced at the dusty wooden crate with a laugh. He had no idea how long he'd had that wine, but it was cork bottle, and they kept for years. He found it cute that June didn't know much about wine, despite having implied she drank. "Don't know. I've had it for a while, but you sure you drink wine?" He leaned against the fridge with a smile, swirling his glass around like a pro.

"Of course, I do!" she bit back, barely hiding a smile herself. She wasn't really a wine person, no. Give her light beer and ciders any day over the wine. She'd even take the occasional Riesling and some other variety of white, or a Moscato, but reds? They really weren't her thing. "I have had little since, you know." She cocked her head sheepishly. "Not flushed with cash the last few months."

Shit, Chad bit his tongue. He'd put that big fat foot in his mouth again. "Um, yeah, of course. Do you mind if I ask you how...?" he struggled to find the right words this time.

She took another facial-twitch inducing sip of the wine and settled against the counter. "How long have I been on the streets?" she finished the question for him. She knew what he wanted to ask. She'd sensed it off him for days now.

He nodded, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry if it's a–"

"No, I don't mind." She interrupted, a little docile herself, however, she did not volunteer the information any more than Chad would admit to being curious about her life before him.

"I can't imagine how tough it was for you, or Bax..." he muttered, still wanting to ask but daring not to. He turned to the rice instead and checked on it. The steam hit his already flushed face as if it were a karmic punishment for prying.