Dare Trilogy | Book 3 Editing | ✓

3.1 | Sweet Things

Posted: July 5th, 2017 | Edited: October 23rd, 2019

| . . . C H A P T E R - 3 . 1 : S W E E T - T H I N G S . . . |

"What are we doing today, stuck in this room?" I questioned after both of us had showered and were ready for the day but with nothing to do.

"Anything you want to do," he replied fixing the bed covers even though it was a hotel room and he could have left them as is. I don't bother pointing that out to him either as I know I won't win that argument.

"Hmm... let's see. Not much to do stuck in this room. And we can't go out, since again, you lied that I'm sick. I can't believe this. I'm in Rome but stuck in a hotel room!" I went on to exclaim, for it was ridiculous. I should be out there.

"My bad. I shouldn't have been looking out for you."

I sighed. "I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't taunting you; just stating the fact like it is."

He held back on the sarcasm, "Fine... any games in mind?"

I thought, and then shook my head. "Not games... but there is something we can do."

"Go on." He seemed interested in hearing this. Perhaps because for the first time in a while, I am taking the initiative to suggest an activity rather than just going along with whatever someone else has already planned.

"Will you teach me how to cook?"

His eyes widened hearing that. He knew for a fact I hated it. "Excuse me?" He exclaimed.

"I know, I don't like cooking. I don't have the patience for it, and I am a horrible cook. I just want to learn something. It's almost insulting to myself that I can't cook, being a girl and all."

He chuckled, "You're different than all girls. That's what I love about you."

I tried not to blush by covering it by teasing him. "And here I thought you hated me all these years."

He flopped on his back. "And there she goes to ruin it."

"Yeah, sure. Now come on, teach me how to cook!" I demanded.

He grunted and pushed himself up on his elbows. "Eager much?"

I glared at him, before grabbing his wrist and forcing him to get up. I pulled him towards the mini-kitchen in the suit. "Well, there isn't anything really that you can cook from what is available here." He concluded five minutes later, after he had checked the fridge and drawers for ingredients, which was mostly empty.

"Don't tell me a multimillionaire like yourself can't call someone and have them deliver things from the grocery store."

He raised his brow at the indirect challenge and instantly walked to grab his cell phone. Finding the nearest store and their number, he noted it down. "Alright, what do you want to cook?"

"Um, can we bake?" I asked with uncertainty. "I know you're diabetic and can't eat sweet stuff. But I think I'm going to like baking more than cooking. You do know how to bake though, right? I guess it's okay if you don't. We can cook anything too. I don't..."

I kept on rambling, not looking up and thus having missed seeing his amused face. He walked to stand right in front of me, his face so close to mine, and I didn't even realize. "Sweet pea, I swear, I will kiss you to get you to stop talking."

I gasped and my face flinched up to see his so very dangerously close. "I..." I started to say, when he neared his face further in if it were even possible.