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Seventeen
Shaw
The house is quiet and for the first time in a long time, I’m nervous.
I haven’t had a significant date in quite some time, and this one is important.
It’s Summer.
It’s Summer and me.
On a date, well I mean, I cooked dinner for her as a date.
Shit, should I have taken her out for dinner?
Now, I’m standing over my salad spinner, worrying about whether or not my plans for the evening were right.
All thoughts are erased as soon as I heard the front door open, then close. She walks through the house and sets her bag on the chair by the table.
She sniffs the air and smiles. “It smells nice in here, I thought you didn’t know how to cook?”
“I can cook things, whether or not they taste good is a different story.”
“Good point, so sir, what are you making for dinner?” She asks, standing beside me and looking into the spinner.
“Salad, garlic bread and Mostaccioli.” I smile proudly.
“Is this the recipe from your mom?” She asks excitedly.
“Sure is,” I nod.
“Yes!” she says excitedly.
“You remember it?” I ask her surprised.
“Oh, hell yeah. Why do you think that whenever I went to your parents with you, that was something that they made?”
“Because, it’s easy to make a lot of?”
“Your mom would call me and ask me what I wanted, my answer was always this.”
“So, what you’re telling me is that I did good with dinner?” I ask hopeful.
“We’ll see how it turns out,” she winks and walks away. I reach out for her and grab her to pull her back over to me.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” she replies.
“Good day?”
“After Sloane grilled me, yes.”
“Grilled you?”
“Well, we had quite a comical conversation and then we talked about you and me a little. That PDA that you did was perfect, she was probably spinning situations in her mind and then you come in and light it up for her.”
“I should have grabbed your boob too, huh?”
