I'm not one to take risks. I don't just board a ship and sail off aimlessly; I prefer to plan meticulously beforehand. It gives me a sense of control and minimizes the chance of failure. Even if someone is genuinely interested in me, my tendency to overthink and scrutinize every detail can lead me to doubt their intentions.
With my back to him, I reached for the oven, attempting to open it, but my hands fumbled and failed each time. I could feel his gaze on me, but embarrassment kept me from turning around to meet his eyes. His touch still lingered on my skin, and the memory of our earlier actions made me blush uncontrollably.
What was he thinking of me now?
I was not only embarrassed but also angry at myself and frustrated with the oven, which stubbornly refused to open.
"Hey, easy there. Are you okay?" His voice broke through my thoughts, reminding me he was still in the room, a presence I didn't know how to face.
More than the uncooperative oven, I hated that question. I hated myself for stepping into territory I vowed I never would. My thoughts spiraled out of control again. I was so consumed by everything that I didn't notice Nick had taken hold of my wrist. I quickly pulled my hand away, stepping back two paces.
"I... I'm fine," I muttered, rubbing my head. "The oven... it won't open." I bent down, trying again with no success.
"Let me," Nick offered, reaching over my shoulder. His cologne wafted over me, reigniting memories of what had happened. I shook my head, forcing those thoughts away. With a quick twist and pull, Nick managed to open it, revealing the cupcakes inside.
Stepping away from him, I watched as he placed the cupcakes on the counter before turning to face me. I swallowed nervously, avoiding his gaze.
"Oh, look at the mess we've made here. We should clean up," I suggested anxiously, glancing around. He chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't worry, we can clean up later. Right now, I'd like to know what's bothering you." There it was—the conversation I wasn't prepared to have.
"What do you mean? What's bothering me? Nothing... I'm fine... you know what? I just remembered I have something important to attend to. I apologize, but I really must leave. I'm sorry about the mess, but—" I fumbled through my words, desperate to escape the house and clear my head.
It was the first time in a long time I acted impulsively. And while I didn't regret what happened, it did not stop the panic clawing at my chest. My overthinking and doubts were my traitor. I turned, ready to bolt. But a strong hand wrapped around my arm, and the next thing I found myself trapped him and the wall.
Heat flooded my senses as I looked at his towering figure. His eyes were even darker, intense burning with something I couldn't quite decipher, and I was seduced in their depths, unable to look away, unable to think past the way his presence.
"You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice a low and controlled. "Not until you tell me what has changed."
"What do you mean exactly? Nothing has changed," I said, forcing my voice to not waiver, which I was failing at.
I held my breath as Nick's gaze remained locked onto mine. I couldn't tell what he was thinking as his expression betrayed none.
"I just remembered some urgent matters I need to attend to," I added quickly, hoping he'd buy it. My palms felt clammy, my heart pounding as I waited for his response.
A beat of silence passed.
"And you're planning to leave right after…" His voice trailed, and I stiffened. Please don't mention the kiss. Please don't mention the kiss.
"...messing up my kitchen?"
Huh? My brain screeched, surprised.
Relief washed over me, but confusion followed just as quickly. Was he really unaffected by what just happened between us? Or was he avoiding it, just like I was?
I glanced around the kitchen and winced at its sight. The kitchen was an absolute disaster—flour dusted every surface, dishes piled in the sink, and crumbs were scattered across the counters like confetti from our earlier playful chaos.
I met his gaze, offering a sheepish smile. "Well… to be fair, we both contributed to this." I cleared my throat, watching as one of his eyebrows quirked up.
He didn't call me out on my obvious deflection, just studied me with that same piercing look that made my stomach twist.
"How about I help you clean up quickly, and then I'll get out of your way?" I suggested, hoping to lighten the mood, to put some distance between us—physically and emotionally.
Nick held my gaze for a moment longer before his lips curled into a small, knowing smile.
"Sounds good," he said, stepping back, giving me space.
And yet, as we moved around the kitchen, tidying up, I couldn't help but notice the way his arm brushed mine, how our fingers almost touched when we reached for the same dish, how charged the air still felt. Not to forget how uneasy I felt at the fact that he too brushed off the kiss like it did not happen.
"So, are we going to pretend like I did not have my tongue shoved down your throat?" I tripped over my feet at his sudden statement. I whirled around; eyes widened with shock and surprise that he brought the kiss up. As much as I felt uneasy at the fact that he too brushed off the kiss like it did not happen, him being so crass about it was not what I expected.
I opened my mouth, then closed it, unable to form any proper word. How could I forget just how uncouth, this guy could be?
"It was nothing." I managed to say. I turned my back on his and continue to scrub the counter. I could feel the heated gaze on my back, almost scathing. My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself not to look back.
"Nothing happened?" He asked. His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.
I slowed my movements, sensing the shift in his tone. Was he angry or was I just imagining things?
I took a steadying breath and turned to face him. Despite his unreadable expression, I could tell by the way his jaw was tense and shoulder stiff that he was not pleased by my answer. Somehow that made me feel relieved.
"Is something wrong?" My voice was quieter than I intended.
His eyes locked onto mine, and my heart pounded against my ribs. The kiss we shared in a fleeting moment meant something to me, but I had no idea what it meant to him. So, what was he expecting me to say? That I enjoyed it and we should do it more often? Then what next?
"What do you think?" he countered.
I clenched my fists. God, could he just answer a straightforward question for once?
"I'm not a mind reader, Nick," I bit out. "If something's bothering you, say it. I can't guess what's going on in your head, and honestly? I don't have the energy to play games right now." I knew I shouldn't lose my cool, but I hated mind games when it came to feelings.
The tension between us thickened, stretching the silence. His gaze was unreadable, intense, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. But then he sighed, running a hand through his hair, and finally spoke.
"I'm not sorry I kissed you." His confession knocked the air from my lungs.
I expected something like a half-hearted excuse, but not sorry? I scoffed, crossing my arms. I didn't know whether to be pleased or offended. "Well, good for you, but I am."
His eyes darkened. "Why?"
"Because it shouldn't have happened in the first place!" I snapped, feeling my frustration bubble over.
He took a step closer, and I took one back.
"Are you seeing someone?" His question threw me off.
"What?" I frowned.
"Are. You. Seeing. Someone?" he repeated, this time his voice hard.
"No,"
His jaw flexed. "Then what is it?" He stepped even closer, invading my personal space. "We're both single adults. So, what's the problem? What's with nothing happened?" True, we were grownups, but it was not that easy!
"I know you wanted it, Madison. I could feel it. You had plenty of chances to stop me, but—"
"Please stop" I cut him off sharply, irritation clawing on my skin. I did not take it kindly to being cornered.
"You don't get it, do you?" I pushed away from him, moving to the opposite side of the counter, needing space from him.
"It's not just about whether I'm single or whether we're both adults. I don't go around kissing random guys and—"
I stopped myself when I noticed Nick's eyes narrowed at my choice of words.
"Random guy?" His quipped.
"I didn't mean it like that. What I meant is… " I let out a tired sigh. "We barely know each other. We're practically... strangers." My voice wavered as his piercing gaze held me captive.
"Stop looking at me like that, please." It made me feel too self-conscious and vulnerable.
"I guess I never thought of you as a stranger" he said softer, but there was an unmistakable tension beneath it. "But know this, I don't kiss just any girl." My mouth went dry at his words. He stepped around the counter closing the distance between us.
Did that mean… the kiss meant something to him too?
"If you want what happened between us to be 'nothing' then it is. After all it was 'just a kiss with some random girl," His words were like ice water to my skin.
Just a kiss?
I stared at him, disbelief coursing through me.
"That's the problem," I bit out the anger in my voice apparent. "It's just a kiss to you. But to me? It's not. I don't kiss just for the sake of it. I don't do it because I'm bored or to pass the time. A kiss is intimate. It means something. It's not something I take lightly."
I turned away, grabbing the dirty dishes and placing them in the sink. My hands trembled slightly as I turned on the faucet, letting the cold water calm me.
"And I don't do casual hookups," I added, my voice steadier now.
Nick was quiet for a moment. Then, with maddening ease, he said, "I never asked you to."
I stiffened. How can one like someone one second and want to murder them next? Because that was exactly what I wanted to do to Nick's nonchalance attitude!
"I'm not asking you to date me or anything," I said, keeping my back to him. "But I do expect respect for what happened. After all, you initiated the kiss. Logically speaking, you took advantage of me." laughter sliced through the silence from behind and I turned to face him with disbelief.
He was there, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, looking as sexy as hell with that annoying smirk on his face like he was enjoying riling me up!
"You are a dick," I shot him
"Even bigger." His smirk deepened. I glared at him and turned my back to the sink. My face was burning hot enough to melt metal at his inuendo.
"I'm human, Nick, not a robot," I muttered.
"I know," he said smoothly. "I'm just glad we're back to normal."
My hands slowed and that's when I noticed that I was no longer angry or embarrassed.
Back to normal. As if nothing had happened. As if the kiss—the moment—hadn't shaken me to my core.
"So, you threw a fit because I kissed you out of the blue?" Nick teased, coming to stand beside me.
"I wasn't throwing a fit, I was just…"
"Flustered?" he supplied, grinning. "Shy?" I fought hard not to blush.
"Confused," I corrected him. "You don't just kiss a girl for no reason. Aren't you afraid I'll ask you to take responsibility and marry me?" I teased, my lips twitching.
I half-expected him to recoil as most men do or went pale at the mention of marriage. But this was Nick, okay? He didn't even blink. Instead, he smiled. Smirked.
"You'd make a lovely bride." He whispered close to my ear. I had to rub it to get rid of the tingle of his breath. The casual confidence in his voice made my stomach flip. My cheeks heated against my will, and I cursed myself for being so easy to rile up.
He was definitely the biggest flirt I've come across to. For a split second, an image flickered to life in my head: Nick at the altar, eyes locked on mine, as I make my way down the aisle in white. I shut the thought down immediately, shaking my head at my own ridiculousness. Get a grip, Madison.
Taking a peek at him, I caught his body trembling, his lips pressed tightly together as he fought to hold back laughter.
"Nick…" I groaned, cringing at the whiny edge in my voice. I couldn't take any more teasing, alright?
That was all it took for him to dissolve into laughter and I found myself mesmerize by the sound of it and his carefree look. I should have been annoyed. Instead, I found myself biting back a smile.
Somehow, after all that tension, we were okay again.
It was infuriating, really—how easily we could shift from heated arguments to playful banter, as if nothing had happened. I splashed water at him to which he ducked.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender between chuckles.
Then, with a knowing glance, he nodded toward the counter.
"At least they survived."
I followed his gaze—and sure enough, the cupcakes sat there, untouched and beautiful.
Unlike us who were still dirty from the childish fight. My face warmed as the memory rushed back. The kiss. The tension. The way I had completely lost myself in him.
Yeah, I thought. They cupcakes survived. And so did we.