Chapter 10
At the start of December, I headed back to school. Erik came to see me off as my “brother.”
I could not exactly say no in front of my stepdad, but at least I would not have to spend more time with him.
On New Year’s Eve, after class, Christopher came to pick me up. Since I could not cook in my apartment, I went over to the villa he shared with his friends. The place was lively–lots of people, laughter, games in the living room.
Christopher was in the kitchen. I tied on his spare apron, pinned up my hair, and walked over.
“I’ll help,” I said. “I can bake a cake.”
He looked down at me and smiled gently. Then he picked up a washed strawberry and held it near my mouth. “Then give this a taste first.”
I bit into it. It was sweet and just a little tart perfect.
“Delicious,” I said.
He handed me a bowl filled with washed strawberries.
Was that a test?
I held the bowl, looked up at him, and said seriously, “I’m actually here to help you cook, you know.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I know.”
‘Come on, over here.”
Chapter 10
He led me to the dessert table–everything laid out so neatly, it looked like something out of a baking show. The utensils were spotless, and the ingredients were perfectly arranged.
Christopher ended up making more than a dozen dishes, while I baked strawberry cupcakes. Everyone had a great time.
Later that night, he drove me home. I had a little to drink–just enough for my cheeks to be warm and my voice to go soft and pouty.
When we got downstairs, the car door opened and the cold wind hit me. right in the face. Christopher wrapped my scarf tighter, tugged my fuzzy hat over my ears, and helped me out of the car. I held his hand and walked slowly, the snow crunching beneath our feet.
The path had not been cleared yet, so snow blanketed everything. I did. not see the step in front of me and nearly slipped, but Christopher caught me by the waist and pulled me back. We were suddenly really close- almost nose to nose.
His skin was pale, and now a bit flushed–like blushing porcelain. It looked nice. I thought the moment was right, so I tugged his sleeve, took a breath, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him.
The night was quiet, and the street lamps gave off a soft, golden glow. The wind was freezing, but his face was warm, and his breath felt even
warmer.
After the kiss, I blushed and buried my face in his chest. He gently placed a hand on the back of my head and let out a soft laugh. I turned my head slightly, peeking up at him.
Then, everything froze.
A tall figure in a black coat stood a little ways off in the snow, just watching.
It was Erik.
