The Price of being Pretentious

Chapter Thirty-seven: Talk show

It took twenty minutes before we reached the last step on the bottom of the grand staircase. Thanks to this guy beside me. He was enjoying himself too much.

'Was it over?' I asked.

'Why? Do you want to climb up again? He chuckled.

'Are you stupid? Of course not. Let's eat. I'm starving.' I complained, holding my tummy.

'Oh, sorry about that. I will prepare food for us because those two didn't even leave a crumb of food behind. They ate everything.'

I laughed, shaking my head. 'They must be starving when we got here.'

He pulled me again towards the kitchen door. I let myself be drawn.

He opened the doors wide, then turned the kitchen lights on. He led me to a high chair near the counter. I was about to climb on it, but I was startled when he lifted me towards to make me sit on the high chair.

'Hey! That's not necessary.' I said as I slapped his back.

'Shh.' He hushed me with his forefinger.

I lifted his hand to move away from his finger on my lips. 'You are being weird.' I commented.

He just gave me a smirk, then leaned his hands on the countertop behind me. Now, his arms caged me. I moved back, but it was useless. As I stepped back, he will just close the distance between us. There was a long silence. He stayed in that position looking into my eyes. He was smirking, while I was raising my brows.

'Aren't you gonna cook?' I asked, pushing away his face.

He caught my hand. 'You're always grumpy every time you're hungry.' He laughed as he bent down his head.

'I am! So go!' I yelled at his face.

'Shh. Keep your voice down. You'll wake up everyone.' He said looking worried.

'I will stop if you stop that. You're so clingy.' I shivered, pretending to be disgusted.

'Nope. I won't stop.' He said firmly, shaking his head.

I gasped in disbelief. I was looking for something to throw, then he retreated.

He was laughing as he went to the stove. I was keeping my eyes busy looking around when he turned silent. I turned to him to see what he was doing. He's now serious, looking for the ingredients and whatever materials he needed for cooking. I placed my elbows on the countertop, then my chin on my palms. I was entertained by how he moved swiftly. His back muscles flexed under his shirt as he tried to reach something on the top of the cupboard.

'What do you want to eat?' He asked as he eyed on a can, then turned to me.

I immediately looked away, trying not to catch his eyes.

'Oh! There's a lizard!' I exclaimed, pointing at the wall.

He put my hand down. 'You're bad at lying. There's nothing over there. Stop staring at me while I'm cooking. You make me nervous. I regret bringing you here. I think you should wait for me there in the dining. You're a one big kitchen hazard.' He said while shaking his head.

I smiled. 'Am I staring at you?' I laughed, but it was fake. 'No. I'm not.'

He chuckled. 'You are staring, Ms. Denial. My sixth sense tells me that someone is fantasizing over me, while she was sitting on the high chair.' He said with a constant grin.

I almost forgot about Paris's attitude. It always annoys me to the roof. But still, I would miss it no matter how annoying it is. Annoy me more, Paris.