Player In Love? ✏️

Chapter 16

The morning rolls around, and I am immediately awakened by a loud 'bang' outside my door. My eyes become sensitive to the light as my head begins to throb. The conversation from last night begins to play in my mind, and I immediately clear it away. Now I start wondering what made that loud thud from outside the safety of my room. Should I go and check it out? If I do, there's a possibility I will come face-to-face with Kellin, and there will be no way to hide from him. Or, nothing will be out there, and the noise could have been from a ghost knocking something over. I really hope I'll see a ghost instead of Kellin.

Slowly moving the comforter away from me, I plant my feet on the ground and drag them past the dresser and toward the door. I pause, listening for any sign of Kellin being out there. After a minute, I finally open the door and step out. Cautiously walking away from my room, I look around, and a sudden scent fills my nostrils. Kellin is to my left, making eggs on the stove in the kitchen. I notice pancakes bubbling on a skillet next to him. He looks like he's struggling, and I can't help but smile. "Need any help?" My question shocks him, but as his eyes find mine, a smile tugs at his lips.

"Yes, please." He moves to flip both pancakes. The tops are a bit burnt, and he lets out a sigh. "I know it may be hard to believe, but this is a disaster." A bashful smile crosses his face. I move my way around the counter and take charge of the pancakes. I use the spatula to lift the pancakes and set them on the plate next to the skillet. I ladle a pool of batter onto the burning skillet, and listen to the sizzling of the cooking pancakes. After a bit, I flip the pancake, allowing it to cook thoroughly. I notice Kellin glancing at me as he sets two plates of scrambled eggs on the counter.

I continue making a few more pancakes realizing that he was trying to make breakfast for the both of us. I dish a few pancakes on each plate as Kellin pulls out a bottle of organic maple syrup. "It's nice of you to cook this. I didn't know you cooked." I mention, sitting at the table.

"I do sometimes. It's kind of relaxing, but as you can tell, I'm not the best chef." He shrugs, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "You want one?" He questions.

"Yes, please." I cut a triangle out of the pancake and set it on the tip of my tongue. The syrup is sweet, but the pancake is a tiny bit salty. I chew slowly, trying to hide a smile. Kellin sets his plate down, gently placing my cup of orange juice in front of me, and he takes the seat across from mine. I hold the icy cup of orange juice in both hands.

Kellin lifts his plate slightly to slide a napkin under. "How is it?" He questions, using his fork to cut into his pancake. I keep one hand around my cup and use the other to fork the scrambled eggs into my mouth.

"They're exquisite." I nod excessively, hiding my smile behind my glass. I take a sip of the tangy juice and watch as Kellin raises an eyebrow before taking a bite. His chews become slower, and a rose tint displays across his cheeks. "Thank you for making this, Kellin." I flash a genuine smile as I take another bite of the pancake.

His expression softens, and he returns the smile. "No problem, Katherine. I'm sorry they're not perfec-" Kellin pauses and moves his gaze to the fridge, "Actually, I know what can help take away the saltiness." Kellin strides over to the fridge, and I hear items moving around in a container. He reaches around me, dropping freshly sliced strawberries on both of our pancakes. My left eyebrow raises as I take a bite, and the saltiness is still there, but the strawberry masks it a little.

"So strawberries are the cure for salty pancakes. Interesting." I sit back in my chair, licking my lips and letting a smile form on my face. "Have you made salty pancakes so much that you know this hack?" I tease.

Kellin snickers, "Actually, I've never made pancakes before except when I was younger, but my parents would really do all the work. But one time, when my dad would make breakfast for my brother, sisters, and me, they'd turn out saltier than mine. My mom would always know how to fix any problem, and one way was to add a shit ton of strawberries on top." He pauses and drags his fork across his plate. "That was when my parents actually paid attention to us. They ended up focusing more on work, and we were always stuck with a live-in nanny. By the time I turned 8, I rarely saw my parents because they were always away for business." His face is somber as memories of his childhood replay in his mind.

I sit back in my chair and take in all of this information. It's crazy to see how his life was. This boy who is well off, living in a nice place with a nice car because he has mommy and daddy's money. He does well with ladies, but in his childhood he rarely had a parental figure around. With all he has told me, from the night he took me out to that field to now, I've seen a different side to him- a softer, more broken side. We've gone through many different things in life and grew up on different financial incomes, but we've been at low states. His childhood wasn't perfect, and I know damn well mine hasn't been, but we've both dealt with the sadness.

With everything he's told me, I'm starting to see a different side of him. He's gone through some form of darkness, yet I don't know the full extent of that. "Did your mom only use strawberries to fix the pancakes?" I question to try and get his mind off of the upsetting topic. Cutting a slice of the now lukewarm pancakes, I stab two of the sliced strawberries and place them in my mouth. The saltiness is still there, but it is milder with the strawberries.

I can tell he is thinking back to the good memories from his childhood because a smile forms across his lips. "No, my brother wanted chocolate chips, so he got a slew of them on his pancake." Kellin uses the fork to push a strawberry back and forth on his plate, yet the smile remains. "Those pancakes were absolutely awful. My mother believed the strawberries would salvage them, but it was useless. You could taste the salt over the added ingredients. You see, I accidentally added a little too much salt, but my dad had mistaken the salt for the sugar. Those pancakes were awful and inedible, but we all had a good laugh."

I smile and pick my plate up, walking to the counter. "Thank you for breakfast Kellin. Honestly, it wasn't bad an-" I think about the next words I was going to say and let my posture soften as I smile at him, "and I enjoyed talking with you." I gently squeeze his shoulder before walking back to the guest bedroom.

I quietly shut the door, feeling Kellins watchful eyes following me to the solitude of the guest bedroom. I change into different clothes- a cute, pastel yellow summer dress and simple strappy sandals. I take out my makeup bag with all my products and do my usual makeup routine. After giving myself a once over in the mirror, I grab the necessities and exit my temporary room. Kellin doesn't appear to be in the apartment; the door to his room is slightly ajar, but there is no noise coming from anywhere. I grab my purse, ensuring I have the apartment's key, and walk out the front door.

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"Oh, this is so pretty." I mutter as the subtle fabric dances between my fingers. I allow my fingertips to brush against various clothing options on the rack. There are so many choices to choose from and so little time. I scan the store to find an outfit that catches my eye. I stop at this maroon blouse with lace sleeves and a piece of the back filled with a beautiful lace pattern. The blouse has a deep V-line, which would look flattering to my body. I hold it over my arm as I look at my other options.

I come across a nice pair of black jeggings with a few rips, and after putting them next to the blouse, I see how they pair perfectly. I set those on top of the blouse and continue around the store. I walk towards the back of the store, where the dressing rooms are, and wait for a store clerk.

"Rin, is that you?" My heart stops at the sound of saying that nickname. That is a voice I haven't heard in quite a while; that is a voice that floods my memories often. I turn on my heels, and my heart completely stops. I hoped I was wrong that someone wasn't talking to me, but I'm not wrong. Many indescribable emotions flood to the surface right now. I'm conflicted. I want to jump in his arms, to feel those arms tighten around me, but I also want to run away and hide in the clothing rack.

"Oh my god, Andrew?" I'm dumbfounded. The same cocky smirk and menacing eyes are staring at me, making me feel a certain way. It's been years since I've seen him, and he hasn't changed much. In fact, those are the same dark eyes that I fell in love with once before.