One Cup of Sugar || Sasha x Niccolo

1 - Cookbooks and Contact Names

Sashas POV:

You'd think something like picking out a cookbook would be easy. However, if you live with two very picky eaters, it's a whole different story. Why do we even have cookbooks nowadays when we can find millions of recipes for free online? It's crazy how the world works. 

After two minutes of going back and forth, I decided it was best to ask my roommates Connie and Jean for their opinions, it was for them after all. I pick my phone up and dialed Connie's number, begging under my breath for him to answer.

"Hey girl, what's up?" I hear Connie from the other side. I could hear the faint sound of video games in the background. Connie sounded like he was in a rush to get the conversation over with. 

"What type of cookbook do you and your best friend want." I chuckle at Connie, struggling to hold both thick cookbooks in my hand. I hear a groan come from the other line. The sound of the video games slowly being replaced with footsteps.

I could hear Connie ask our roommate, Jean, what kind of cookbook he was looking for. Both boys were trying to go on some healthy eating journey, despite being the pickiest eaters I know. 

"He said he doesn't care, just get whichever looks good to you, bye! Love you!" Connie says quickly before hanging up on me, probably itching to get back to his video games. 

"I-Connie!" I start before sighing, putting my phone back into my jeans pocket. 

"That idiot." I mumble under my breath, rolling my eyes. I needed to quickly decide which one I was going to get. Living with picky eaters when you're not a picky eater is exhausting. I shake away the thought, holding one option in each hand. I contemplated calling Jean and forcing him to pick, but I didn't want to bother him too much. 

"Come on, Sash, it's not that hard." I mumble to myself, looking at the two cookbooks in my hand. I examine both covers, trying to decide which would satisfy the two I had at home. I start to look at the options on the shelf again, fidgeting with my necklace. 

"Personally, I'd go for the one in your left hand. The recipes in there are good." I hear a soft voice to my left. To my left stood a tall, beautiful man. His hair was parted in the middle, loose blond waves falling past his forehead. His soft brown eyes looked at me with a kind expression. He had an intimidating muscular build, but his gentle facial features made him look sweet. He had a friendly smile on his face, and a light blush across his cheeks.

"You think so?" I return the smile. There was no doubt about the fact that he was attractive. He was even dressed nicely in a white t-shirt, light jeans, and a light blue and grey flannel. 

"Yeah, I have that one at home. The French recipes in there are phenomenal." The man continues, walking a bit closer to me. He picks up the ones I had in my hand, putting them back on the shelf. Turning towards to cookbook shelf, his left hand skimmed across all the books, his fingertips lightly grazing each one until he picks one up.

"Hm. Here we go." He hands me the cookbook he chose. "If you want a cookbook with no misses for picky eaters, go for this one instead." He puts his hands in his pockets, looking down at me.

"How'd you know I was looking for picky eaters?" I chuckled, skimming my fingers over the cover of the book he handed me. It was a simpler cookbook, probably targeted at pickier audiences. 

"Okay so I wasn't eavesdropping or anything, but I overheard the conversation you were having with whoever you were on the phone with." He stammers awkwardly.

"Oh, so you were stalking me?" I tease, tilting my head at him. The man looks at me, a soft smile spread across his face.

"I don't think that qualifies me as a stalker. Think of it as a professional helping someone who was struggling. A good deed, if you will." He says, motioning to me with his right arm.