Burning Heart ▹ CIAMPA [COMPLETED]

03 ▹ intimacy

▹ LOOK AT THIS FINE ASS PICTURE OF PETE 🔥 Oh, and... There's Tyler, too 😂  PETE, THO 😍 Also, please read this chapter with caution 🙃

FINALLY, I was lying down after myself and Candice organized the whole apartment by ourselves. She left over an hour ago, but I'm just now lying down after making some last-minute additions. Bianca still isn't home and it's close to ten o'clock at night. She had sent a quick text about five minutes ago that Ricochet invited her over to his place — if you can believe that. I can't and, when I told Candice, she couldn't, either.

I take a deep breath and slide my phone to the side, propping my feet on the coffee table. I only had my eyes closed for two seconds — literally — when I suddenly heard two soft knocks at the door. What. The. Hell.

Growling under my breath, I made it to my feet and dusted my jeans off. I'm thinking it's Bianca, forgetting her key and getting some clothes. I make my way over to the door and I answer it, obviously very groggy and tired. Yet, it isn't Bianca, but it is Pete, though. He is just now coming over after having a long day at the gym with training and practice with Tyler, apparently.

He revealed the bag of food, from a local Chinese place here in town. "Hope you were hungry," he said before letting himself in and, when he was inside, I silently shut the door behind him and lock it back.

He doesn't stop in the small kitchen to put the food, but goes all the way to the couch and coffee table where I was just stationed at. I made my way around him and sat to his left while he got everything out. He grabbed one of the large styrofoam cups and handed it to me, and said: "There's you a Sprite. Is that okay?"

"Perfect. Thank you," I replied back and found a straw to slide into it. I took a few sips while he laid out everything in front of us.

He had everything. Most of it was for him, most likely, since I didn't like everything that he advertised. He loved the noodles, but I didn't. He loved every piece of chicken they would give him, but I didn't.

He stood up and walked into the kitchen, suddenly confused. "Where's the plates?"

"Right there in front of you," I called back, pointing to the top cabinet. He nodded and opened it, revealing the neatly stacked plates. Before he would ask, I went ahead and told him where he could find the forks and spoons, and anything else that he might need, too.

He quickly returned and sat a plate out in front of us both, along with a spoon and fork as well. Alas, he took a deep breath, slightly clapped his hands together, and announced: "Dig in!"

Just as he was about to dig into the food, I quickly placed my head on his shoulder and looped my arm with his, allowing my other hand to rub that same arm. "This is perfect. Thank you, babe," I thanked him and quickly pecked his lips. "I love you."

"I love you more," he said back and looked to the food. "No offense, but I'm starving, so..."

"Go ahead," I sighed and motioned towards the food, allowing him to eat away. I took back my arms and allowed him his time to eat.

For our late dinner, Pete ate everything that I didn't and, yet, I didn't want anything that much. I just wanted some rice, sweet and sour chicken, and broccoli with chicken bites. Obviously, I needed that sweet and sour sauce, too. For whatever reason, I didn't want that much.