abs.
Avert eyes, avert eyes!
Look at that lamp. What a pretty lamp.
“Want something to eat?” Asher inquired, getting to his feet.
I checked my watch. It was lunch time, and now that he’d mentioned it, I was pretty hungry. “Yes.”
Standing, I almost collided with Asher, who’d been moving forward. I stumbled a few steps, and his caught my wrist, keeping me from tripping.
“Leave it to you to be a dancer, but a complete klutz,” he stated. I retracted my wrist and strode haughtily down the aisle.
“Unless you want to get lost, don’t try to find the kitchen alone. It’ll be a huge waste of time if I have to find you,” Asher called from behind me. I halted. He had a point. It would be sixty times more humiliating if I got lost in his house. Crossing my arms over my chest, I followed him through the maze to the kitchen. Granite counter, state of the art cooking gear, and everything was stainless steel.
At this point, Bill Gates could walk in and I wouldn’t bat a lash.
“Well?” Asher questioned. “You don’t think I’m going to fix us both a snack alone, do you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course not. That would mean I assumed you had a sense of hospitality.”
He grinned. Opening his large fridge, I perused its contents. There was barely anything in here! Just some cheese and carrots. Oh, and lots of beer. Unable to reign in my curiosity, I opened the freezer.
He had lots of frozen chicken and steak, but nothing else.
The cabinets were filled with every type of junk food you could imagine. Chips, cookies, cupcakes, dips, you name it, he had it.
I glanced at him. There was no way he ate like that and still maintained that body. “Those are my party foods,” he clarified.
He must have some big parties.
“What were you planning on cooking?” Cause I had no idea.
In reply, he hefted a big bag of frozen burgers onto the counter.
I was still wondering why his kitchen was so bare. Did his parents prefer to eat out? Is that why the kitchen was so scarce? But then, why would they let him stock the pantry with ‘party food’?
“Cooking requires moving,” Asher informed me patiently.
Right. I found a pan and some butter and set them on the counter. Asher watched me with confusion. “What are you doing?”
“Making burgers,” I answered, grabbing the spice rack and the burger buns. What else did we need? Vegetables!
“That’s not how you make burgers,” Asher insisted.
“Yes it is!”
“No it’s not.”
Annoyed at his stubbornness, I placed a hand on my hip. “How do you make burgers, Asher?”
A sly grin spread over his handsome face, and unbidden, his words to me from lunch the other day resurfaced.
“Ooh, say my name again. It’s hot.”
Cue burning ears.
“Your ears are red,” Asher noted with a grin, popping a piece of lettuce I’d gotten for the burger into his mouth.
“Don’t change the subject! I have an idea- why don’t you just sit somewhere and I’ll get this done?” I wasn’t Chef Boyardee by any standards, but burgers were child’s play. It was a testament to this oddly cold house that he probably just stuck his burger in the microwave and ate the
Avert eyes, avert eyes!
Look at that lamp. What a pretty lamp.
“Want something to eat?” Asher inquired, getting to his feet.
I checked my watch. It was lunch time, and now that he’d mentioned it, I was pretty hungry. “Yes.”
Standing, I almost collided with Asher, who’d been moving forward. I stumbled a few steps, and his caught my wrist, keeping me from tripping.
“Leave it to you to be a dancer, but a complete klutz,” he stated. I retracted my wrist and strode haughtily down the aisle.
“Unless you want to get lost, don’t try to find the kitchen alone. It’ll be a huge waste of time if I have to find you,” Asher called from behind me. I halted. He had a point. It would be sixty times more humiliating if I got lost in his house. Crossing my arms over my chest, I followed him through the maze to the kitchen. Granite counter, state of the art cooking gear, and everything was stainless steel.
At this point, Bill Gates could walk in and I wouldn’t bat a lash.
“Well?” Asher questioned. “You don’t think I’m going to fix us both a snack alone, do you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course not. That would mean I assumed you had a sense of hospitality.”
He grinned. Opening his large fridge, I perused its contents. There was barely anything in here! Just some cheese and carrots. Oh, and lots of beer. Unable to reign in my curiosity, I opened the freezer.
He had lots of frozen chicken and steak, but nothing else.
The cabinets were filled with every type of junk food you could imagine. Chips, cookies, cupcakes, dips, you name it, he had it.
I glanced at him. There was no way he ate like that and still maintained that body. “Those are my party foods,” he clarified.
He must have some big parties.
“What were you planning on cooking?” Cause I had no idea.
In reply, he hefted a big bag of frozen burgers onto the counter.
I was still wondering why his kitchen was so bare. Did his parents prefer to eat out? Is that why the kitchen was so scarce? But then, why would they let him stock the pantry with ‘party food’?
“Cooking requires moving,” Asher informed me patiently.
Right. I found a pan and some butter and set them on the counter. Asher watched me with confusion. “What are you doing?”
“Making burgers,” I answered, grabbing the spice rack and the burger buns. What else did we need? Vegetables!
“That’s not how you make burgers,” Asher insisted.
“Yes it is!”
“No it’s not.”
Annoyed at his stubbornness, I placed a hand on my hip. “How do you make burgers, Asher?”
A sly grin spread over his handsome face, and unbidden, his words to me from lunch the other day resurfaced.
“Ooh, say my name again. It’s hot.”
Cue burning ears.
“Your ears are red,” Asher noted with a grin, popping a piece of lettuce I’d gotten for the burger into his mouth.
“Don’t change the subject! I have an idea- why don’t you just sit somewhere and I’ll get this done?” I wasn’t Chef Boyardee by any standards, but burgers were child’s play. It was a testament to this oddly cold house that he probably just stuck his burger in the microwave and ate the
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