Page 17 of Pitcher Us
We’re off to a great start here, Cals.
Ugh, okay, maybe something else will be better. But as I look around it becomes abundantly clear that my kitchen is not prepared to cook this meal. Can opener? Don't have one. Measuring cups and spoons? Not one. Apparently, I only thought about buying pretty things and basic necessities.
Fuckity, fuck, fuck.
I could go to Adam’s and cook it in his apartment. His came fully furnished so it should have everything. But then that puts me back at going to my brother to rescue me. And I don’t have the time or the money to get all of this stuff right now.
Swallowing down every bit of pride I have I walk out my door to go knock on the door of the only other person I know that has a fully stocked apartment.
The knock feels full of regret. He’s going to tell me no, I’m sure of it. Why did I even think this was a good idea?
I’m halfway into my turn to run back to my apartment when Will opens the door. “Callie?”
Shit.
Turning back, I try to cover the fact that I was mid ding-dong-ditch with an overly happy, “Hi!” Ugh, can I crawl in a hole and die right now?
“Hi?” Will leans against his door frame and it’s annoying to me how sexy that is for no damn reason.
“Hi.” Damn it, I’ve already said that. “I…uh…well, you know how I said I wasn’t a hot mess?”
The corners of his mouth tug into a smile ever so slightly. “I don’t hear your fire alarm so I’m assuming this mess isn’t life threatening?”
God, I’m a disaster. My shoulders slump and I don’t have the willpower to fake positive right now. “I just want to make some food for me and Adam. I wanted to prove that I could do it without any help, but my apartment didn’t come fully stocked like yours so I’m missing things I need. I know I could ask Adam, but I’ve asked him for so much this year. I just wanted to do it, because damn it, I can do hard things. But I just…”
I look down at the floor as I trail off and wait for the door to slam in my face, but instead, Will laughs. “What do you need?”
Looking up I try not to show too much schoolgirl happiness. “Something to peel potatoes, some measuring cups…and spoons. Oh, and a strainer and mixer!”
Leaning off the door frame, he smirks. “Anything else? Kitchen sink, maybe?”
“Honestly, maybe.” And with that small joke a smile spreads over Will’s face. Damn, he should do that more often.
“Head back to your place. I’ll bring everything over.”
Holding back a hug, I decide on a simple, “Thank you.”
Well, he’s not shirtless, but Will still looks damn good in my kitchen. He brought over everything I asked and besides the small jokes in his doorway, he came with no more snide remarks or judgmental stares. Not to mention, he’s let me do the bulk of the cooking, only helping when I ask.
I fully anticipated him coming in here and taking everything over, but he’s let me take the lead from the start. I didn’t know how much I needed it to be that way until he said, “Okay, tell me what to do.”
One small part of me really wanted to make a joke asking if he takes instructions this well in bed, but I will absolutely not go there. There must be boundaries if we are going to be friends.
Because that’s what we are…right?
Will pulls the rolls out of the oven as I finish whipping the mash potatoes. “Okay, I’ve got about twenty more minutes before I’ve got to get to my mom’s. What do you need next?”
“Oh my gosh, Will, I completely forgot you have an hour drive.” I feel like such an asshole taking up his entire holiday. “Please, go ahead. I can finish?—”
“Callie. What do you need next?” The look on Will’s face tells me not to argue, and I honestly don’t want to. I’ve liked having him help. It’s almost as if he’s calmed my chaos down.
Earlier when I was too preoccupied in making the marshmallows pretty on the yams, he had already preheated the oven and cleaned up the mess I made with the brown sugar.
“Could you possibly get one of the nicer bowls out of that cabinet?” I gesture to the tall one behind him. “I can get the chair-step-stool combo if you’d like, though.”
Shaking his head with a small chuckle, he turns around to do as I asked. “I feel like I’m going to need to get you a life alert necklace anytime you think you need to climb to reach something.”
“Help. I’ve fallen and I can’t get up,” I mock, and that smile is on his face again when he brings me the bowl. Dear Lord.
