Chapter 18: Chapter Ten-1

Chapter Ten It sinks in. Everything sinks in, finally. I didn’t see it coming. I never would’ve seen this coming. Lee almost kissed me. And the fact that I actually enjoyed it scares me more than anything else. It sinks in that I have feelings for Lee. Last time I liked someone; my best friend stabbed me in the back. What will happen this time? Lee doesn’t even feel the same. Does he? No, he couldn’t. Out of all the beautiful and rich girls, he couldn’t like me. He has a company to run and he needs someone strong and beautiful—someone not me. He probably tried kissing me because of the spur of the moment. It’s been twenty minutes. The electricity has turned back on but I’ve been sitting on the white-tiled kitchen floor for twenty minutes. I’m a coward. How am I supposed to face Lee? My face is in my hands and my back is against the fridge. Why did I tell Lee I had to go feed my cat? I don’t even have a cat. I wonder if Lee’s still standing in the living room, or if he left. He couldn’t have. There’s a storm. Wait, what if my rejection caused him to angrily storm out? Worried, I get up and dash to the living room only to find Lee sleeping peacefully on the couch with the fireplace still crackling with fire. He looks so calm and serene. It fills me up with regret. I should’ve let him kiss me before I ran away. It’s not too late, a voice in the back of my head says. I push that thought away. I don’t want to violate him while he’s sleeping. That’d be creepy. But he looks so tempting to touch. He looks young when he’s sleeping. The crease on his forehead that’s always there is gone. His face is acne-free and has better complexion than mine. I don’t realize I’m brushing his hair away from his eyes until his eyebrow twitches. I pull back immediately. It would be so awkward if he wakes up at this moment. I owe him a kiss. He took all the courage to try to kiss me and I just shot him down and ran away. Besides, he’s unconscious. No harm done. Taking a gulp, I slowly inch my face to his. His head is turned the other way so I take his face in my face and give him a quick peck. I smile mischievously. I feel so badass. His eyes suddenly open. I smack his face. Lee shouts in pain and jolts up. I gasp, covering my own mouth in surprise. “Why did you hit me?!” he yells, clutching his cheek from the red mark that’s starting to form under his hand. “Um, m-mosquito,” I shrug. Lee gives me a strange look—maybe a glare—as if he’s actually challenging the idea that I really hit him because a mosquito was on his face. “You’re welcome,” I add. “For what?!” “Saving your blood from being sucked,” I reply nonchalantly. “Now, come on. Get up. Let’s eat some dinner.” It’s back. There’s no awkwardness. We’re back to the way it was before the whole candlelight scene. Lee’s back to his cold, rich douche demeanor, and I’m back to the girl who hates him. I’m glad. I’d hate it to be any other way. I walk to the kitchen with Lee hot on my heels, still rubbing his cheek. Maybe, I shouldn’t have hit him that hard. He mutters something about when the lights had came back on. I glance over at him. His hair is all messed up. I didn’t notice before but he’s wearing his suit. Of course, I think as I roll my eyes. He just can’t wear anything else. “Give me something to eat,” Lee orders, taking a seat at the island. Already, I hate his tone. He’s in my house and yet he’s ordering me around. Just because he’s a guest and because Mom says to always be nice to guests (and try not to strangle them) I smile and say, “What would you like to eat?” “Nothing you give me will delight my taste buds. Cheap food just doesn’t do for me,” he says, faking a yawn. My eyebrow twitches in anger. Stay calm; stay calm, I repeat in my head. He’s just mad because you rejected his sorry ass. “Oh yeah?” I challenge, squinting my eyes. “I’m certain.” He asked for it. I still remember a dish Granny taught me before she moved out of New York and to Boston. Lee’s going to wish he never challenged me on my cooking skills. “You want to bet?” Lee arches his eyebrow, clearly amused. “Sure. What’s the deal?” His arms are crossed now—probably trying to look more superior—but all it’s doing are making my eyes wander to his flexing muscles. Focus, I scold myself. “Whoever makes the greatest dinner wins,” I say, crossing my own arms. “The other person will taste it and we both have to be honest and tell each other if our meals taste good.” I rest my hands on the granite counter of the island. “Deal?” “Deal,” Lee smirks. I smirk back. I show Lee all the food and materials he needs to know. I bet he’s never touched a pan in his life. He was born into richness—probably never cooked. That’s why I feel so confident about this bet. I grin to myself just thinking about winning—earning a strange look from Lee. I am so going to win this bet. While I’m boiling my pasta and Lee is making some sort of soup, he suddenly asks, “Wait, what’s the reward? If one of us wins, what do we get?” “Hm,” I say, my wooden spoon in mid-air. “Whatever the other person wants, I guess. Is that okay with you?” “Fine by me,” Lee smirks. He continues his recipe after that and I continue my recipe. Granny had taught me this delicious pasta recipe. Every family gathering over holidays, she would make it. My mouth waters from even thinking about it. I scoop up the strings of the pasta and rinse them before adding pepper and spices. I pull out the meat sauce I had been working on while my pasta was boiling and spread it over the dish. For the final touch, I add some mint leaves for good breath. It’d be so embarrassing if Lee points out I have bad breath. “Done!” Lee announces. I hear him place his dish on the island counter. I bring mine over, too. Peaking at his dish, I realize it’s soup. So average, I think while smirking. But it smells pretty good. “I’m done, too,” I say. We place our dishes side by side. Both look so extravagant together—unlike Lee and I. Lee hands me a spoon and I hand him a fork. We switch places and I take a sip of his. There’s bread next to his soup so I bite down on the soft bread and sip more of his creamy soup. To say it’s delicious would be an understatement of the century. It’s so delicious that I’m scarfing everything down in a matter of seconds. How did Lee learn how to cook? It’s so scrumptious. I underestimated that boy. Looks like a dumb snotty kid but cooks like a pro.