Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
He barks a growing-puppy bark, sounding more and more like a teenager every day, and I move my spaghetti sauce to the back burner and turn the temperature down to low. It’s got ground chicken in it because Julia prefers that over red meat most of the time when she’s not on her period, and I did my best to cook it until it seemed done.
I’ve never browned ground chicken before—truth be told, I’ve never really cooked much that couldn’t just go in the oven before—so I was working strictly off YouTube and hope.
Dropping the noodles in the pot of boiling water on the other side, I slide the tray of garlic bread into the oven and set the bowl of bagged salad on the kitchen island along with the candlesticks I had delivered via Instacart earlier.
Yoko barks again, this time at the sound of the key in the door, and I hold my breath, the nerves over how Julia will react to the whole thing hitting me like a dart between the eyes.
It’s not that we haven’t attempted to cook for each other before—mostly her for me—but the candles and stuff kind of scream romance.
As the door opens, I wipe my hands down the front of her pink apron and head toward her, a glass of iced tea in one hand and a bottle of white wine in the other.
She bends down to give Yoko a scratch, but her eyes are undeniably wide as she takes in the scene. “Ace, what are you doing here? What’s going on?”
I smile. “Sorry for breaking and entering, but I wanted to cook you dinner, and as it turns out, I don’t have all the necessary cookware at my place. Slight oversight, I suppose. Is this okay?”
She glances at the food on the stove behind me and then back to me, her face surprised but warm. “Yeah. It’s…really nice, actually.”
“Good,” I say, relieved. “I think everything should be done in about ten minutes if you want to go change into something comfortable while I’m finishing up. You can pick between wine and tea.” I set the choices on the island with the salad bowl.
“Wow,” she remarks with a laugh. “Change into something more comfortable? Is this dinner or the start of a porno?”
I smirk. “Your choice.”
She scoffs, sputtering. “Oh my God, Ace, stop. I’ll be back out in a minute.”
I wish us filming a porno together didn’t sound quite so much like a joke to her, but I’ll take it. It is a little outlandish, even if she finds my body sexy in all the ways that count.
The plotlines are always so outdated.
Kidding. I don’t watch porn. I’m clearly far too fucking busy trying to make Julia fall in love with me to fit in that kind of screen time.
I swirl the noodles in the water as they start to stick together and peek in the oven at my bread. I can’t tell if it’s really toasty or not, but the butter is melting, so I think that’s a good sign. I decide to leave it until the noodles are done, just for good measure.
The sauce in the back bubbles and splatters, so I turn it off and hope for the best. Julia returns from the bedroom in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top as I’m draining the pasta, and I have to do a double take when I realize she’s taken off her bra. I can literally see the outline of her perfect nipples underneath her top.
Fuck me.
“Better?” I ask, swallowing hard against the many, many raging thoughts diverting my blood from my chest to head to a location farther south.
“Yes,” she says through a relieved exhale that makes her breasts move deliciously under her tank top. “I felt like I was being strangled by the top for some reason.”
“Uh…that’s good. That’s great.” I honestly don’t even know what I’m saying right now and force myself to avert my eyes from her body. “Well, grab your drink and make yourself comfortable at the table. Dinner’s just about ready.”
“You know, Ace, I’m really impressed. You’ve been working so hard in all our classes, and now this meal… It’s almost like you’re growing up.”
I smile toward the stove, mixing the noodles and the sauce and putting servings on two plates. Garlic bread out of the oven and served up too, I grab Julia’s plate and carry it to the table along with the salad bowl before going back for my own and joining her.
I sit down at the table with her and hold up my own glass of iced tea for cheers. She matches my energy with a tap of our glasses. “To us. To a lifelong, unmatchable friendship and years and years of more,” I say just vaguely enough to carry the tone while I work up the nerve to really let it all out there.