The flight to Boston was really smooth. With a half hour delay due to weather conditions, but smooth nonetheless. Arriving around nine, a car was waiting for you outside the airport. After the driver helped you both get your luggage on the trunk, the journey began.
“Welcome to ‘Dodger’s Palace’.” Chris said opening the door of his house and letting you enter before him.
“Welcome to the hotel Dodger’s Palace…” You mumbled changing the lyrics to Hotel California by The Eagles.
“Such a lovely place…” Chris sang along closing the door and walking right behind you, making you both laugh.
“Dork.” You told him lightly shaking you head. He placed a hand on top of his chest as if your word had deeply hurt him.
“Follow me please.” He said guiding you into his guest room. “I hope you’re comfortable.” He told you once he had shown you the room.
“I’ve sleep in a hotel room for the past four months, I’m not that hard to please.” You commented and Chris stared at you with a grin on his lips. Figuring his innuendo you rolled your eyes at him.
“If you can’t find -or need- anything just tell me.” He said and you nodded.
“Hey Chris,” You said before he could leave you alone to settle yourself. “do you mind if I borrow you kitchen for a few hours?” You asked after some thinking.
“Not at all, but can I ask what for?” Chris questioned.
“I’d like to bake something to bring to you family’s home tonight.” You told him.
“You know you don’t have to…” He said.
“I know, but I want to. I wouldn’t be comfortable showing up empty handed.” You admitted. “My mom would kill me me if I did.” You joked.
“Alright.” He accepted. “Just one condition: I have to help.”
“Sure! It’s your kitchen after all…” You agreed.
“Great! How do we start?” Chris asked, his eyes sparkling like those of a child at a candy store.
“I usually begin with the mise en place.” You explained walking beside him towards the kitchen.
“Oh, we’re using fancy words too?” He joked, earning himself a punch on the arm.
To say Chris seemed happy as child helping you with the preparations was something. But baking with him also felt like baking with a four-year-old. Thank God for you patience. What started a a very professional mise en place ended with the whole kitchen covered in flour. You didn’t complain though, you had fun together and the product seemed presentable. You were both content with the results.
***
As the hours went by, and the time to go to the Evans’ household got closer, your nervousness only grew. You even spent fifteen minutes in front of the bathroom mirror mentally practicing possible conversations while applying some make up. Finishing up, you walked out and looked for Chris who was waiting for you sitting in the living room going through his phone. Hearing you footsteps getting closer he put his phone away and looked up focusing on you. Fixing his clothes he stood up speechless.
“Is it too much?” You questioned looking down at you outfit. Chris only shook his head. “Too little?” You questioned again wrinkling your nose the way he liked so much. He shook his head again.
“It’s perfect.” He managed to said. “You’re- you look perfect.” He added walking towards you.
“Ready to leave?” He asked.
