When You're Ready (Lauren/You)

6

Your POV

1033, 1034, 1035...

I read off house numbers in my head as I drove down the street.

"1036," I said to myself before turning into the driveway.

It wasn't quite four o'clock yet, but I had been ready since three and I was tired of waiting.

I turned off my car, stepping out and walking up to the front door. I knocked on the door and observed the front of the house as I waited. It was a really nice house.

The whole neighborhood was really nice and obviously kept up well.

"You're early," Camila said with a smile as she opened the door.

"You should've expected that," I shrugged.

"I did," she giggled. "That's why I was ready for you to show up thirty minutes ago."

I shook my head at the girl. Every time I thought I would catch her off guard she was still two steps ahead of me.

"Come in," she smiled, opening the door wide enough for me to walk past her.

I felt her eyes on me as I walked in, but I was too busy observing her enormous house. She really had come into some success over the past couple years.

"My family comes out and stays with me a lot, but right now I'm all by myself," she smiled.

I turned around and caught her staring, but she didn't bother to shift her eyes.

"Looking for something?" I asked.

"I found it," she winked before walking past me to the kitchen.

I blushed slightly, following her through the huge house.

"I cooked," she said, putting on an oven mitt before pulling a pan out of the oven.

"Is that what I think it is?" I questioned, the smell taking over my senses.

"Risotto," Camila winked, knowing it was my favorite dish she used to make for me.

I used to ask her to make it all the time.

"When was the last time you had this?" She asked me as she grabbed two plates for us.

"The last time you cooked it for me," I said with a small laugh as she served both of us, handing me my plate with a smile.

"I'm gonna have to send you home with all the leftovers then," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Oh, Jc is going to love you," I mumbled more to myself than to her, but she caught it.

"Who's Jc?" She asked as we sat down at her kitchen table.

"My roommate," I told her, picking up on the jealous tone she used.

I knew that tone very well.

"I met him about a year ago and we got super close. We were both living alone in the same apartment building and eventually we decided to move in together to save some money," I explained.

"That's cool," she smiled. "When do I get to meet him?"

"Whenever I let you," I said jokingly, leaning on my elbow.

"Yea? Alright," she laughed. "I promise I'll be nice."

"I'll see what I can arrange," I teased with a smile, finally taking a bite of the food that had been sitting in front of me.

"Oh my God," I moaned.

"I still got it?" She questioned with a cocky smirk.

"Oh, yea. You still got it," I nodded. "Actually, I think you got a little more now."

I forgot how much I missed her cooking.

"Oh, I know," she said.