In Hate With You [mlm]

the twelfth episode

The walk to the shops feels longer than it was yesterday, and I'm beginning to wonder whether buying milk is even worth the effort.

I've always loved summer. There's something wonderful about the hot sunshine reflecting off a bright blue sea, the music echoing across neighborhoods from parties and BBQs, kids enjoying the freedom of the summer holidays.

But this morning, I groaned at the light streaming through my blinds at four am, and when I was forced to leave the house; the feeling of the sticky sun-cream clinging to my skin.

I sigh in relief as I see the corner shop come into view; bright rows of sweets line the windows, and outside, a big sign adorned with the words 'Ice Cream for sale here!'

The owner, Jodie, greets me with a wide smile, her eyes brightening as she recognizes me.

"Mornin', James." I tug the corners of my lips up, and force a smile at her. "Lovely weather, isn't it?"

"Yes," I agree, pulling at the front of my t-shirt. "Bit hot, though."

"Rather it be too hot, than too cold, eh?" She laughs, and the loose dress cloaking her body, billows around her knees. Envy grows in my heart.

I shake the thoughts out of my head, moving to the back of the shop to retrieve a bottle of milk. The fridges provide a cool breeze, and my tense muscles relax.

A bumble of voices comes from the entrance, and I hear the owner greeting her next customers.

I grab the green milk bottle, enjoying the cold condensation pressing against my skin, and walk to the check-out.

Already at the counter, is Ady, chatting excitedly to Jodie, from behind the counter. Her cheeky smile grows once she notices me, and I can't help but smile back.

"Hi, Mr Anderson! It's my birthday!" Happiness jumps across her face, and I glance around for her mum.

"Wow, Happy Birthday!" I grin, before commenting, "I thought I told you not to call me that though?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her. "It's James, when you're not at school."

Jodie meets my eyes, her gaze curious.

"Sorry, James," she apologizes, her eyes wide. And then- "Daddy! Did you get me an ice cream?"

I hear Dante laugh behind me, and I swallow.

"I said I would, did I not?" She nods, excitement gleaming on her face. Dante comes to a stop beside her, and glances at me in surprise. "Oh, hi, James."

"Um, hey." I bite my lip, avoiding his gaze. It's the first time I've seen him since a few days ago, when he kissed me and I fell asleep on the sofa.

"How are you?" He asks, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

"I'm good, thanks. How are yo-"

"Why are you being so awk- awkward?" Ady frowns at us, her lips struggling to form her words.

I wince, finally meeting Dante's eyes.

"Sometimes adults are like that," Jodie explains to Ady, and I smile my thanks to her. "Which ice cream are you getting?" She asks Ady, who turns to her dad with a wide grin and pleading eyes.

Dante hands over her ice cream, and Ady begins discussing the complexities of different flavours of ice cream with Jodie.

"So, u-"

"Would you like to come over for Ady's birthday?" Dante asks, interrupting me before I can ramble. "We were going to bake a giant cake, just the two of us."

I almost refuse, but stop myself. "That sounds fun, actually. What time?"

"Now-ish?" Dante winces at his own unsurety, and I chuckle.

"How about in half-an-hour? That way I can drop this milk off and grab Ady's present from home," I decide for him. He nods at the first bit, and then his eyes widen.

"You didn't need to-"

"Yes, I did. Six is a big age for a little girl," I insist, my eyes landing on Ady who is watching us carefully, her eyebrows pulled together.

Dante slips a hand along my back, and I glance up at him, tracing the lines of his jaw and the loose strands of hair trailing down his neck.

Jodie coughs, and I move away from Dante, a blush growing on my cheeks.

"Just the milk?" She asks, her voice tighter than normal - with amusement, or discomfort, I can't tell.

"Yes, please." I clear my throat. I can feel the weight of Dante's gaze burning into the back of his neck, and how close he is to rubbing along my shoulders with his hand.

She runs it through the till, and I thank her, stepping away from the counter.

Ady catches my arm, "Are you coming? Please say yes!"

I frown at Dante, and I catch Jodie sighing behind the counter. Definitely uncomfortable, then.

"To her party," he explains, amusement shifting across his features.

"Anything for you," I tell Ady, and she giggles happily.

I wait outside for Dante to pay for their items, and surprise spreads across his face when I wrap my arms around him as soon as he steps outside.

Ady grins up at me, already licking her ice cream. She has dabbed a small smear of white chocolate on her nose, and the ice cream wobbles dangerously in her hand.

We begin walking up together, both Ady and Dante quiet as they eat. I slip my hand into Dante's, and lean over to kiss his cheek.

Within a few minutes, my hand is sweating, but Dante doesn't loosen his grip so I don't try to wriggle away from him either.

Once Ady has finished, chocolate is smeared all around her lips, with some small dashes staining her forehead. Dante leans over to wipe it away with a tissue, but she darts out of his reach.

He groans as she sprints ahead, a cheeky smirk slipping along her lips as she evades capture. I laugh at their antics.

Dante offers me a bite of his ice-cream, and I shake my head - so he pushes it into my nose.

"I know you want some," he teases me, and I roll my eyes. Of course I want some; it's a hot day; the sun's hot, I'm hot.

He waves it near me again and this time I lick off a massive chunk.

"That's gross!" Ady yells from somewhere in front of us.

"I bet it was nicer than your ice cream!" I shout back, and she pops into view with a fiery look in her eyes.

"That's impossible," she claims, nearing us. "Nothing is as nice as a magnum."

"Oh yeah?" I challenge, and she narrows her eyes at me.

"Yes." Dante nudges me, a careful look in his eyes.

"I wouldn't challenge her," he tells me, his expression wary. "She's kind of right."

I scowl at him for siding with his daughter, and he pulls my chin towards him, leaning in to kiss me. He separates from me far too soon, and I look down to see Ady tugging at my jumper with a glare in her eyes.

"Stop snogging. I want to go home and bake!" She whines, an annoyed tone entering her voice.

Dante snickers at our expressions as he finishes his ice cream, before tangling his other hand in Ady's.

"Okay, Ady, we're coming," he reassures her, his thumb rubbing along her knuckles.

It doesn't take long for us to reach our apartment block, and I pull away from Dante's hold with a small smile.

"I just need to drop of this at home," I indicate at the milk in my hand, "And then I'll come and join you, okay?"

Ady nods. "You better come back though," she threatens me. Dante chuckles softly, kissing my cheek.

I can't keep the smile off my face as I jog up the stairs to my apartment, and hurriedly unlock the door and slip inside.

Without wasting any time, I slip the milk into the fridge and retrieve Ady's present from the back room. I was going to give it to her at school on Monday, but the sooner, the better, I guess.

I'm almost out the door, when I remember the stacks of food colouring and sugary decorations in my cupboards, left unused after one failed experiment.

I grab the most interesting ones and pile them into a bag, before escaping out the door.

Ady and Dante's apartment is along the hallway from mine, so it's only a short walk.

The front door to their apartment is green, and labelled with a gold number '42'. I pause outside the door, holding my hand up to knock but not daring to actually do it.

The door swings open, and Ady's head pops out.

"I hear your footsteps," she tells me, opening the door wider to let me through.

"You did, did you?" I ask, disbelief echoing through my voice. I bite at my lip once Ady has moved further into the apartment, and is no longer looking at me. My gaze explores as I step towards the kitchen, searching for Dante.

It's laid out almost exactly the same as mine; entrance opening out into an open-plan kitchen and lounge, with two bedrooms and a bathroom splitting off from the main room.

"Hi, James!" Dante calls through, amusement clouding his voice as he hears my footsteps falter.

Ady comes out of the kitchen, a grin curling across her lips. Somehow, she's managed to get completely covered in cake batter in less than two minutes.

I glance over her shoulder to see Dante, who is also a bit of a mess. Flour is dashed beneath his right eye, dusting across his cheek. A smear of butter curls across his forehead, fading into his eyebrow. His hair is tied in a bun, but still hasn't escaped the onslaught of ingredients - cocoa powder and cinnamon mix with the colours of his hair.

"What's in the bag?" Ady asks, her eyes sparking with curiousity.

"In this one, there's food colouring, sprinkles, icing - anything you can think of," I explain, offering her one of the bags. "And in this one, a present for you." I put the other bag on the table beside me, and she squeaks.

"Thank you, Jay." Her grin is wide, stretching her cheeks and carving small dimples into her face.

She doesn't reach for the present, allowing it to sit whilst her hands are dirty. Instead, she begins to pull things out of the baking bag, marvelling at each one.

Dante mouths a thank you to me, and I step around Ady to join him.

Six tins sit out on the side, two of each size. In his hands, he has a large white bowl filled with vanilla cake mix, and an electric whisk. Beside him, a food processor is mixing a cocoa mix. Two of the smallest tins are filled with a caramel-coloured mixture, and look almost ready to go in the oven.

"Do you need some help?" I rise my eyebrows at him, eyeing the quantity of bowls sat out around him.

"Could you please check the food processor?" He smiles gratefully at me, as I step over to the mixer. "It has all the ingredients in it," he adds.

The mixture is smooth, so I turn off the mixer and extract the bowl, before pouring it into two of the next size tins.

I check the oven, and it's already warm, so I slide the two smallest cakes into the top shelf.

"No-" Dante cuts himself off. "The oven needs to be colder for them, that's why I was leaving them until last."

I frown, "But the oven temperature can go up and down?"

"Yes, but the oven will need to warm up again after those have cooked because it's almost a fifty degree difference in heat," he explains, his hands still working even though his gaze is trained on me.

I narrow my eyes at the oven, and the two cakes, but step away. Probably safer to leave it to Dante.

*

It isn't long before all six cakes are in the oven, and Dante has whipped up the different coloured butter icing Ady wanted for her fancy six-tiered cake.

She shows me her design, and all I can do is have faith in Dante's baking abilities - not very hard, because he runs a bakery - as I am completely useless at baking (and decorating) cakes.

Whilst we are waiting for Dante to work his magic, Ady opens her present. And the time it took me to find it is absolutely worth the look on her face.

I bought an all-in-one pack of paints, pens, crayons and chalk, along with a few colouring books, a faux-canvas and a set of paintbrushes.

She throws herself at where I'm sat, wrapping her arms around my torso. Her leg clunks against the coffee table, but she doesn't seem to mind.

Dante darts into the room, alarm flaring in his eyes. His gaze softens when he sees us; her wrapped in my hug. The kitchen timer beeps, and he reluctantly retreats back into the kitchen.

"Thank you," she says, her voice sweet.

"It was my pleasure." She smiles, her dimples a shadow of Dante's.

"Decorating time!" Dante calls. Ady hauls herself up, offering a hand to me.

We spend the afternoon painting each other in the colours of the rainbow, and dousing ourselves in sugar. For the amount of time we (Ady and I) spent making a mess of the kitchen, rather than decorating the cake, it turned out looking like a piece of art.

The afternoon was made even better when Dante kissed my cheek as I left, a smile pulling at his lips.