Breakthrough

Frittata Mama

After I got home I unpacked all my frittata ingredients and set them on the counter. I told Blake that I would text him a few minutes before everything was done. It was nearly nine thirty and I haven't had a single cup of coffee. I wonder if Blake drinks coffee? I decided to start a pot while turning on my surround sound to listen to some music. I then started whisking together eggs and heavy cream in a bowl while I had some bacon frying on the stove. After getting out the cast iron skillet and pouring my egg mixture in the pan I then scattered green onions, diced cherry tomatoes, and bacon bits while finishing it off with a layer of sharp cheddar cheese before slipping it into the oven. I then walked over to my phone and shot Blake a text saying he could come over anytime. My coffee pot began to beep so I poured myself a cup before opening the fridge again to take out some fruit salad I had purchased earlier in the week which was when I heard the doorbell ring. He was early. He got here very quick. Was he in my driveway the entire time? I didn't even have to time to turn off my music before answering the door.
"Hey, come in," I said to him ad I held open the door.
"You listen to Drake?" He asked taking note on the song playing from the kitchen.
"He's probably one of my top five favorite artists."
"Mhmm. Same. I just didn't think of you as a Drake kinda girl ya know?" He said going into the kitchen setting down his bags.
"You don't know a lot about me," I said to him helping unpack the bags of juices and champagne.
"Well, I plan on getting to know you."
"Eager huh?"
"Hey if you're into it I'm into it." He said before going into the living room that was right off from the kitchen. I watched him sit on the couch and lay back on one of the pillows. The guy knew how to make himself comfortable.
"So are you going to come and keep me company?" I guess he felt me staring at him.
"Uh, yeah. I'm gonna make me a mimosa. You want one?" I said grabbing two champagne glasses from one of the cabinets and filling the bottom with a few raspberries. I then poured some of the Orange juice and topped it off with champagne taking a sip as I made my way into the living room.
"Here you go," I said leaning down to hand him his glass.
"Thank you my lady," he said taking a sip and setting the glass down on the coffee table.
"You're quite welcome. Thank you for coming over. The frittata should be done in about 10 minutes or so."
"Perfect. I almost forgot!" He said jumping up from the couch and going over to one of the bags he brought and bringing it over to me.
"Here these are for you. For tonight," he said handing me the plastic bag.
"Um. Ok. Thanks," I said opening the bag to reveal two pieces of clothing. One was a red Clippers jersey with his number on the back and the other was an oversized long sleeved tshirt that also had his number on the back and "Clippers" written on the front.
"So, now you have something to wear to the game tonight and the right tshirt to wear to to grocery store," he said smiling at me taking another sip of his mimosa.
"Why thank you. That was very sweet of you," I said smiling while folding the shirts and placing them in my lap.
"And don't worry the tshirt is really comfy. I've had that one for awhile. Nice and soft."
"Then it's perfect. Thank you again." That was when our little gift exchange as interrupted by the sound of the oven timer going off. I went over to the oven and slipped on an oven mitt to pull my frittata out of the oven. It was just the perfect slightly toasted color on top. I could feel Blake hovering over me as I slid it onto the plate.
"That looks like one hell of a meal if I don't say so myself."
"I hope so. It's a new recipe. If it's not too good I can always make pancakes. Those are hard to screw up," I said to him as I cut him a pretty decent size piece and put it on a plate with a fork before handing it to him. He wasted no time digging into it as I fixed my plate and followed him back into the living room.
"Oh my gosh. And she can cook," he said with a mouthful. I then took a bite for myself and nodded in agreement.
"I love to cook. Always looking to try new recipes."
"I'm not much of a cook. But, I'm one hell of a reheater and take out orderer." I laughed and shook my head at him.
"Don't you get tired of that. Like the same old same old Chinese or pizza or microwaving those vegetables in a bag?"
"Well, the last time my parents came down to visit my mom taught me how to boil rice so that's on my list of no fail foods so I have some variety."
"I don't think I have the same thing twice in three weeks for dinner."
"Damn. I think last week I ate salmon, rice pilaf, and broccolini three times. Maybe you should teach me some of your recipes."
"I could do that. I mean if you play in the NBA and you can cook any girl will fall for you," I said pointing to him.
"Even you?" He asked. Even me?? Even me. I felt my cheeks get warm and the center of my palms getting clammy. How do I even respond to that. I mean yes. The answer is yes.
"Yes, especially me." I said looking up from my plate and at him. I could see a small smile forming at the curve of his bottom lip.
"That's all the matters to me," he said leaning in a little closer to me and putting his hand on the side of my face rubbing my cheek with his thumb.