As We Fall (A Trevor Jackson Story)

A Change in Perspective

"And I want a lot of chocolate icing. You know how much I love icing!" Arissa speaks, her grin wide filled with dominance. She's just as competetive as me and loves the feeling of winning. (Sometimes a little too much.) I roll my eyes as we walk back into the house, our dripping bodies making their way to the living room.

"Girl, you get whatever is in this boy's fridge," I laugh as she backs up into the room and flops down on the sofa with Aaron. "So if you end up with pickled cake with mayonaise icing, you best be happy."

We crack up as I wrap my towel around my shoulders, but I still can feel myself shiver as I feel someone's presence from behind me. I turn around to see Trevor's tall, shirtless figure behind me, his towel wrapped around his hips.

"Well um. See the bad part is, we don't have pickles, nor do we have mayo. Buuut, I do got some cake mix and chocolate icing," he says matter-of-factly, pointing his thumb towards the kitchen.

I look back at Arissa, who sticks her tongue out at me, then back to him. "You're not suppose to encourage her," I wince, shaking my head as I move towards the kitchen. He follows close behind.

"What? I was just telling her what kind of cake we were making," he defends himself, moving in front of me to show how much of an innocent face he's making. "Whatever," I chuckle, pushing his well toned arm aside to move past the rest of his fit body. "Let's just get to making this cake kay?"

"Yes ma'am," he laughs with a salute, turning around to get a few ingredients out of the fridge.

I find us a big bowl and a spoon and begin putting the ingredients in as he hands them to me. I start mixing them together slowly, making sure that all the ingredients blend together with out forming to many bubbles.

"Wwwwhat are you doing?" Trevor says, an eyebrow rasied high on his face. "What? I'm mixing the batter," I ratify as I take a firm hold to the bowl. "Nah, gimme the bowl," he puts his hand out, waiting for me to hand it over. "Wait no," I squeak, cluching the bowl to my body. Seeing that I'm not gonna give up the bowl, he pulls me closer to him by my side and puts his hand on the bowl. "Give it," he voice deepens an octive. "Nope," I smirk in his face.

He uses the hand he placed on my side to tickle it and I immediately let go of the bowl, falling weak over his sensetive touch. "That's better," he satisfyingly mutters. I make a face at him as he starts to rapidly mix the batte. "This beats out all the pockets," he informs me. "No it doesn't!" I argue, motioning to take the bowl from him until he lifts his hand puts it against my forehead. "Nope you ain't gettin this back," he laughs.

I give him evil eyes as he goes back to stirring, but a thought springs in my head and I turn my attention to his cabinets, hoping he has what I need.

"What are you looking for?" he asks, but I ignore him until I find what I'm looking for.

"Chill, it's just an old secret my grandmother taught me," I smile slyly as I close the cabinet, holding a bottle of vanilla extract in my hand.

I then grab a small bowl and the butter from off of the counter, I mix my own two ingredients as Trevor mixes his. And after I put it in the microwave for a few seconds, I approach him with it.

"Whoa you're not putting whatever that is in here," he says protectively over the bowl.

I roll my eyes and grab the bowl from him this time, pouring my concoction in before he can stop me. I then take his spoon and begin to slowly stir it into the batter.

"What is that anyway," he ponders, sounding defiant. "Like i said, it's just a little something my grandmother taught me. 'Sweet with an unexpected kick' she always told me. 'The way young love should be'," I smile to myself at the distant memory of those words. I was so engrossed in them that I copy there every feature and dip my finger into the batter, then raise it just inches away from his mouth. Just as my grandmother would do to me. "Say ahh."

What makes me realize what I was doing is the face he gives me as he stares at the batter on my finger. I suddenly feel the embarrassment rise in my cheeks and am ready to yank the hanging hand away, until he lifts his own to hold it steady and wraps his lips around my battered covered finger. My heart jumps out of my chest for that split second as he pulled away and looked at me with his brilliant light brown eyes that widen with delight.

"Mmm, I might have to steal this idea one day," he smiles slyly, inching his own finger toward the bowl. But I snatch it away from him. "Nope, only one sample per customer," I jokingly tell him. "And you can't share this with anyone. It's a family secret." "Then why'd you tell me?" he ponders, pushing his eyebrows together.

I look at him deeply, giving him a dizzy smile and a simple shoulder shrug. But honestly... I have no idea.