Page 30 of Drunk Girl

Back in the kitchen, I give my mom a hug. “Have a good night, Mom. I’ll call you tomorrow after work and let you know how it goes. Love you.”

“Love you, too, sweetie.”

* * *

“Areyou sure you don’t need any help?” I ask as I sit on a chair on Nick’s deck an hour or so later, while he mans the grill. I’m nursing another one of his homemade root beers that are quickly becoming my favorite drink.

“I’ve got it all covered,” he assures me. “Not much to it but flipping things when they need to be flipped.” He does just that and flips the steak, vegetables, and potato wedges he has all lined up on the grill. “If you really need to do something, can you run in and grab a platter, two plates, and some silverware? We can sit out here and eat tonight.”

“Sure can,” I say, hopping up from my seat. I stop to give him a quick kiss before I head inside and find everything we need.

11

Nick

I watchas Ashley disappears into my house to grab the plates and silverware. I admire the swing of her hips as she does and wonder how we can just click so easily together. How, this time last week, we’d never crossed paths and, as of today, I don’t want her to leave my side. Fuck, I’d be happy if she just moved all her stuff into my house and called it good. I know that isn’t an option yet, but damn, if it doesn’t feel right to have her here in my space, cooking dinner together and just living life.

“Here ya go,” she says, pulling me from my daydream, then sets the plates and silverware out on the table. “Do you need anything else?”

“Nope, this is all,” I tell her before turning back to the grill to remove the food.

“Oh my god, this steak is amazing,” Ashley moans a little while later, as she takes a second bite.

“Thanks, I’ve perfected grilling over the years. I do a lot of it, with only cooking for one most of the time. I can only eat so much bar food before it gets old.”

“I bet. Have you always enjoyed cooking?”

“Not really. I don’t necessarily enjoy it, just a necessary part of life. Once I was on my own, and realized quickly that I couldn’t survive on takeout and freezer meals, and the leftovers my mom likes to send me home with after a meal at my parents’ house only lasts me a day, if that. The only thing I miss about living at home is my mom’s cooking. What about you, are you much of a cook?”

“I guess so. I’ve been cooking since I can remember. I don’t usually go all fancy, but I’ve got the basics down and can put a well-rounded meal on the table. I’m also the queen of making entire meals out of the random things I can pull out of a pantry. Sometimes money was super tight, and we’d have very little to get us by until the next payday or food pantry date. Even after those days, it was still sometimes a meal pulled together from a mish-mash of random items from the pantry and freezer. If I never have to eat another bag of frozen mixed vegetables, it will be too soon.”

“I can’t even imagine what it must have been like to go through days like that,” I tell her honestly. I never had to wonder where my next meal was coming from, and I’m thankful for that every damn day.

“The ironic part about it was that for most of my childhood, I didn’t even realize that we were poor. Since all my friends lived in the apartments all around us, I didn’t know better. I try and focus on the happy moments more than the crappy ones.”

We fall silent as we focus on eating and not talking. The flavors from the fresh grilled vegetables and steak are bursting on my tongue and satisfying my hunger.

We finish up eating and work together to get our dishes cleared and into the dishwasher. I tried to insist I didn’t need any help, but Ashley wasn’t having it.

“Thanks for helping clean up. You ready to relax some before you need to go to bed?”

“That sounds perfect,” she says, stopping in front of me and lifting up on her toes to kiss me.

I cradle her face between my hands, loving the feeling of her soft skin against my callused hands. “Or, I could take you to bed now,” I say against her lips before I dive back in for another demanding kiss. She wraps her arms around my waist, closing the small amount of space left between our bodies.

I have no idea how much time passes as we stand here in the kitchen, exploring each other. We’re a mess of lips and tongues, teeth occasionally clinking together. I eventually slide my hands down her body until I can grasp her thighs just under her ass.

“Jump,” I instruct, breaking the kiss for a second as I hoist her up into my arms, then place her down on the counter. I make sure her ass is close to the edge and step between her legs, pulling us close together.

I trail my hands along her hips and then under the fabric of her top. My fingertips brush along her skin, as I slip higher and higher up her body. “You can take it off,” she whispers next to my ear.

I don’t need to be told twice, so I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it up and over her head. My eyes drop to the roundness of her tits on display for me in her lacy bra before I start covering the pillowy tops with open-mouthed kisses. Ashley arches her back as she pushes her chest further into me. I slip a hand around to her back and easily open the clasp of her bra. I stand back long enough to remove her bra completely and toss it behind her on the counter, out of our way.

“Your tits are perfect,” I growl, just before I suck one of her nipples between my lips. I lightly bite the tip, then run my tongue over it to soothe the sting. I switch to the other, where I do the same, which causes Ashley to moan in frustration.

“We need to move this to the bedroom,” she says, pulling my head from her tits.

“I could fuck you right here,” I suggest, a smirk on my lips.

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