Brooke Whittaker had all but forgotten Nicholas Williams after the "Great Christmas Disaster of 2010." But, when her father announces a business arrangement that will not only move Brooke and her family to New York City, but also forces Nicholas bac...
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The blue and white covered bed at the Williams's beach house was arguably one of the most comfortable things I had ever slept in. I couldn't even remember the last time I had slept that great. To be fair however, I was out as soon as I hit the sheets after the amount I had drank the previous night. Without the smell of bacon and coffee, I probably would've tried to go back to sleep for at least another two hours.
But, not being one to pass up coffee, I found myself stepping out of my room and searching for the way to the kitchen. It took a couple of tries and at least three wrong turns, but I finally managed to find my way.
"You look good," the only voice in the kitchen mocked as I rounded the corner. I looked down to find myself in an oversized t-shirt.
Huh? When did I change into that?
Leave it to Nicholas Williams to criticize my appearance first thing in the morning. And it's not like I could say anything back to him, he looked physically flawless as always in his grey sweatpants, even though he probably just got up. I knew I had sworn to hate the boy, but if I'm being honest, he wasn't the worst to look at first thing in the morning. And at least I had finally found the source of the heavenly smells wafting through the house.
"You just going to stand there and stare? Or are you going to help me?" Nicholas said impatiently, turning back to the bacon in the pan.
"I can't cook," I said, staring hesitantly at the stove. Like everything in his beach house, the kitchen was nautically themed and felt like the standard, overpriced, east coast beach house.
"We're making pancakes, it's not that hard," Nicholas said smiling.
"You really don't want me to help," I tried to explain. "I tried making cookings last summer and the fire department ended up at our house."
"I don't believe you," Nicholas said, ignoring my pleas. He motioned me over to the island in the center of the kitchen and set down a bowl and recipe. "Just mix in the dry ingredients into this bowl and I'll hand you another one for the rest."
I stared blankly down at the recipe as Nicholas went back to his bacon on the stove. I really couldn't cook, but I guess if all I had to do was put ingredients into a bowl, how badly could I really mess up?
"Can we switch?" I asked and redirected Nicholas's attention back to me.
"What do you mean?"
"Like can I cook the bacon and you make the pancakes?" I begged.
"Do you know how to cook bacon?" Nicholas asked with a smirk on his face. My response of turning back to the pancake ingredients must've been enough of an answer because Nicholas let out a soft laugh and then focused on the bacon again.
A while later, when I had finally figured out the difference between baking powder and baking soda, I moved the bowl over to the stove for Nicholas.
"Just take some batter and put it in the pan and—" Nicholas started explaining.
