Making It (On Hold Indefinitely)

3.4

3.4

Living in an apartment with out Blaire meant that I had to learn to fend for myself. While Brooke usually did most of the cooking because she was better at it than me, i've learned to cook a few things without setting the food on fire. Breakfast being my area of focus because Brooklyn usually had early morning classes which meant she couldn't cook.

So after breaking a few eggs and watching my bacon like a hawk i've branched out to more sophisticated breakfast items like omelettes and waffles. However with the limited amount of food in our fridge I put my craftiness to use and decide on making a breakfast scramble. It's like an omlette just scrambled, which lately they have been turning out to be because i'm still working on it.

I'm in the process of scrambling the eggs for the breakfast scramble when arms wrap around my waist. Taylor pulls himself against me and brushes the tip of his nose along my ear before speaking.

"What can I do chef?" he murmurs in a tone that should only be reserved for the bedroom.

I shrug both him and the feeling of wanting to jump his bones away while I point over to the green pepper resting on the cutting board. Out of all things in our fridge there was a lone green pepper sitting on the shelf dying to be used. That and a pack of hotdogs I was praying I could use as a substitute for ham because we didn't have any bacon or breakfast sausages.

"On it." Without me having to say a word he knows exactly what to do, which I love. He places a kiss on my neck and moves to the drawer to grab a knife.

For a split second I almost let him fumble around the kitchen a bit. This may be his place as well but he hasn't been here much so he knows where nothing is. So instead I pull open the drawer right next to me and the cutlery inside rattles about.

Taylor looks over his shoulder at me and then down at the open drawer. When he notices there's a knife inside amongst the various scattered about utensils the muscles in his shoulders relax and he smiles. As he's grabbing it he moves to kiss my lips but I turn my head.

"Not while I'm cooking," I mutter, moving to check on my hotdogs and feeling pleased by the process.

I hated cooking. It stresses me out because I was so bad at it. So the less distractions the better. I could work wonders, but only if I was completely focused.

So Taylor leaves me to it. He chops up whatever I need him to and then once the eggs are done we add the rest of the ingredients in. By the time we arw finished Brooke and Alec are leaving the bathroom to get dressed so Taylor and I start eating without them.

"Do you have to work today?" Taylor looks up at me from his plate and with a mouthful of scramble I nod my head. "What time? I'll drive you."

My lips curl into a smile and I hold my hand up in front of my mouth so I can talk without appearing too gross.

"Ten. You don't have to drive me, you can stay here." I wave my hand about by the end of my statement and his lips frown briefly.

"I'm driving you." He jabs at my knee with the prongs of his fork. I flinch and poke him back.

"I didn't want you messing with Clifford but fine, if you want to drive me. You can." I'll just have to readjust him once he leaves.

"You named my truck Clifford?" he laughs. "After the dog?"

"Yeah, I told you about it. When you were in Florida, remember?" I scoop up some more of my scramble and stuff it into my mouth. My brow lifts and he shakes his head. His lips curl with amusement and his eyes sparkle. "Well he's been named Clifford."