Finding myself (18+)

Chapter 42

It's the end of May, and Andrew finally gets Saturday night off so we can have dinner with Noah in our apartment.

The cooking machine beeps, and I'm furrowing my brow, reading the following steps, when he enters the kitchen and hugs me from behind.

"Hey babe," he whispers in my ear and then kisses my cheek. I take the machine's cover off, and the smell of mushroom sauce spreads through the kitchen.

"How was work?" I shift my head to see him.

"Tough," he has been working to open a new affiliate since the board's approval. I was wrong if I thought Andrew's work schedule would be lighter after that.

"No place yet?" I push up my sleeves to continue to cook tonight's dinner.

"No, I'm waiting for a few numbers to prepare a shortlist. Then I'll go to a few places and decide the exact place."

I grab the salt shaker, placing it above the machine to add the quantity required; at that exact moment, Andrew's lips assault my neck. His hands roam over my body, and I shiver, leaning against him with goosebumps all over my flesh.

My eyes pop out, and I gasp, noticing the abundant amount of salt I add because of the distraction.

"Dammit," I slap his hand away, yet he keeps them tight around me.

"Sorry, babe." I glance at him, and he grins, placing his chin on my shoulder. My eyes narrow. He isn't sorry at all.

"I missed you." He kisses my neck again.

"Noah will arrive soon," I search for pepper, the next ingredient instructed by the machine.

"He's such a cock blocker," he snorts. "Why did we invite him?"

"Because he's your best friend and -," the doorbell goes off, and Andrew snorts again.

"He should've arrived later, so we have time alone," he tightens his hold on my waist before moving away.

"Or you could've arrived earlier." My tone was harsher than I intended it to be. He halts in his tracks to look at me, his head hanging low. I know it is not his fault, I know he has a lot of work, but he's never at home. And I miss him too.

He nods slowly and then plods to the door to open it for Noah.

Regretfully, I sighed, I didn't want to be harsh with him, but sometimes it is difficult to control my frustration.

I dry my hands with a cloth and then walk to the living room. Noah greets me with a hug before sitting on the couch.

While Andrew opens the bottle of red wine Noah brought, I get the glasses and the snacks I prepared for the aperitif. I smile, proud of it. Impatient for when they will finally taste what I prepared. It has been a long time since I have cooked for someone, and I made an effort to make every little thing homemade.

I want tonight to be flawless. I need it to be. I've been spending nights on my own. So tonight it's a special event for me.

Noah tells us about his specialization as a doctor and how he's torn between opening his own clinic or continuing at the hospital to take his father's position one day. We drink wine, and I chew my cheek, concentrating, seeing their appreciation of the aperitives I've prepared.

Even if Andrew complained about Noah coming tonight, he missed him. They go on and on about their professional decisions and work troubles while I let them talk to heat up the dinner I had prepared earlier until the discussions are stopped by a phone ringing.

I stride out of the kitchen with a cloth in my hands, coming closer to the living room in time to catch Andrew grimacing and staring at his phone. He closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them again, he spots me.