The Deal Taker (Book III)

Chapter Fourteen - Fire

                                                                                     Chapter Thirteen

                                                                                                 Fire

You only kissed. Stop making it more awkward by taking constant pee breaks. I stood in front of the sink, giving myself a slight pep talk in front of the mirror. Last night, when we got back from our night out, I had practically stayed in the bathroom for two hours, claiming to need a bath after being out in the cold so long. I went to bed before Matthew, so I basically have been avoiding him since our kiss in the woods.

We've kissed before, right? Many times, in fact. But I knew, deep down, it was different last night. I wasn't being forced to put on a show or using it to distract or manipulate him. I knew I kissed Matthew because I wanted to, and it terrified me. I didn't think, I never thought, I would feel anything towards him. I thought those feelings, whatever they might be, had died when David had.

Maybe it's cabin fever? That's a thing, right? I've been so cooped up in here, I probably have developed some kind of cabin fever. Stockholm syndrome? No, there's no way in hell I'd fall for someone holding me against my will. Matthew wasn't holding me against my will, but rather breaking a deal was. Was that the same thing? There had to be an explanation for last night.

I washed my hands in the sink in order to make it look like I actually went to the bathroom before I left and headed back downstairs. I had expected Matthew to be sitting in the chair by the fireplace reading some Russian literature book he was reading earlier, but he was nowhere to be seen. I hesitated in the living room, hoping he wasn't about to pull another surprise trip to some restaurant or something. Before I could even begin to look for him something strong and gag-worthy hit my nose, causing me to nearly wretch in the living room.

The kitchen.

I hesitated once more, now fearful of what horrific thing awaited me on the other side of the kitchen door. It smelled like something seriously rotting or burnt. Taking a deep breath from the better part of the room, I stepped into the kitchen and covered my nose with my sleeve.

Matthew stood by the sink with smoke around him something burning in the sink. He was swearing left and right, making me nearly applaud because of his wide-range of curse words. Matthew heard the door swing shut behind me and immediately looked up, his brows pushed together in frustration.

"The damn tray was leaking and the instructions said to cook for fifty minutes!" Matthew snapped, flipping the faucet on to stop whatever was on fire in the sink.

I was on the verge of bursting into laughter at his state of fury over whatever he had seriously burned, but I knew now was not the time. "What was it?" I slowly question, my voice muffled from my sleeve covering half of my face.

He grabbed some kind of tin lid and slid it across the island towards me. "Fish fillet. At least the damn thing was fish."

He was really testing my ability to keep my composure. I grabbed the tin lid and looked on the top where there was writing all over it. The writing was neat, but also smeared in certain sections. Something caught my eye, nearly making me lose it with laughter. "Um, Matthew?"

He smacked the faucet off and turned to me his clear frustration in every feature of his face. "What?"

This was going to be so hilarious. "The instructions say ten minutes in the oven, at 350."

Matthew's fury began to quickly turn into disbelief. "No, no, it clearly shows—"

I placed my finger right below the cook time. "The one was smudged at the bottom, so it looks a little curved. What temperature did you set it to?"