Unwritten Rule [The Ludovicas: Second Generation Book Two]

Bonus Chapter | Six

ADA

I tasted the soup, humming in satisfaction before scooping it out in two seperate bowls.

Keeping the bowls on the tray, I carried it upstairs to Armano's room. He was sick and in bed along with Alamea. They both apparently spent some time getting drenched in the rain last evening.

I was about to knock when I heard a third voice coming from inside the room, a voice that belonged neither to Armano or Mea.

Zaire.

When the hell did he come and why was I not aware?

Shit. I must be looking weird too since I have been in the kitchen for the past one hour or so, had I known he would be here--

Okay, stop.

It doesn't matter. I am going to go in, hand over the tray and come back out without letting Zaire affect me.

Yes. That's exactly what I would do.

Balancing the tray in one hand, I pushed open the door with the other and walked in.

My eyes instantly went over to Zaire who stood near where Mea laid on the bed, our eyes meeting.

I quickly looked away and smiled at Armano and Mea. "I made chicken pasta soup for you both."

I had to walk closer to where Zaire stood, brushing past him to place the tray on the nightstand and Armano and Mea thanked me.

I could feel Zaire's eyes fixed on me as he asked, "No soup for me?"

Here goes my plan of ignoring him. Who am I kidding? I could never ignore him.

I sent him a pointed look. "Are you sick?"

"No." He leaned down, placing his face in level with mine, smiling and taking my breath away. "But if you make soup for me then I will gladly get sick." And he winked cheekily.

Holy shit. My face turned red. He was shameless, flirting with me while those two were present in the room.

I abruptly turned around to leave.

But there's enough soup left.

I stopped at the door and glanced at him over my shoulder. "There's...some soup left...if you want..."

Zaire grinned and glanced at them. "See you later."

I heard him following behind me and I hurriedly walked downstairs and went to the kitchen.

Trying to ignore his presence, I grabbed another bowl and scooped out more soup in it.

Then I placed it on the kitchen island along with the cutlery. "Here."

"Thanks, sweetheart." He smiled, taking a seat.

I didn't know what to do so I stood there awkwardly, watching him swirl the soup with the spoon before scooping it up to his mouth and drinking it.

I swear his eyes lit up and he glanced at me then back at the soup, going for more. "You made this?"

"Yes. Do you not like it?"

He chuckled, animatedly waving the spoon around. "This is the best thing I have ever had."

I blushed. "No need to flatter me."

"I'm not flattering you, I mean I would love to but it's the truth. It's fucking delicious, Ada."

"It's just...soup."

"Well, you made it so it's certainly special for me." He grinned before going back to drinking the soup and eating the pasta.

I have always enjoyed cooking and I always get praised for it but I don't think so anyone has ever expressed so much joy in eating what I made.