Page 36 of The List of Things

“I’m fully aware of that... And my capabilities.”

I feel my cheeks heat.

“Are you going to help me, or keep staring at my ass?”

My jaw drops, “Your ass doesn’t even look good in sweatpants, don’t get a big head,” I invade his space now, coming close to him.

“I already have a big head Ryn. I’m the star quarterback… Remember?” My eyes roll at his not so subtle narcissism.

I steal the bag of brownie mix from him, ripping it open with my teeth. I pour the bag into a big mixing bowl, a puff of brownie dust coming up around my face. Bellamy stands incredibly close to me, cracking eggs, and pouring ingredients into the bowl.

“Do you have a whisk?”

He opens the drawer, passing me what I asked for.

“Of course I have a whisk,” He leans back on the counter, and I hold the bowl in my hands, and start whisking the contents. “You’re not doing it right,” He pushes himself from the counter.

“I’m mixing brownie batter, how could I be doing it wrong?”

He’s got a boyish grin on his pretty face as he moves forward toward me. He puts his hands over mine and starts moving my hands, whisking the contents harder, and faster.

“You have to put a little elbow grease in there.”

Brownie batter starts going everywhere but the bowl, the splatter hitting not only the counter but me too.

“Bellamy!” I yell, unable to take my hands from his, or stop the movements he’s creating. “You’re making a mess!” I laugh now, watching the smirk on his lips turn into a smile.

I move back, and turn away from him, realizing that he had no intentions of actually making brownies. I think back to the list.Cute kitchen food fight where we cook together.This was on the list.And although I made it, I seem to forget that’s what we’re doing.

I put my hand in the bowl, and turn, reaching up to his face. I smear batter on his cheek, and down to his jaw. He just stares at me, his pretty bright eyes completely amused right now as he stares. I wait for him to make a move, knowing he has a full advantage over me. He moves quickly, taking an egg from the open carton and smashing it right on top of my head. My jaw drops. My glare burns through him.

“You asked for this,” He tells me, and the war starts, both of us slinging batter and whatever else we can get our hands on.

The kitchen turns into a mess quickly, and so do Bellamy and I. I can’t hear anything over our laughter, but it all goes still the second he pulls me to him by my lower back. I’m once again pressed to his hard chest, he’s got brownie batter coating his cheeks as he stares down at me.

“You’ve got a little something... There,” I motion to his whole face and watch a slow smile hit his features.

He’s the most attractive when he smiles. Because his smiles are always genuine. When he smiles it makes me feel like I’m getting punched in the stomach because I don’t think I’ve seen anything more purely perfect than his smile. I’ve got a thing for boys with pretty smiles, and Bellamy’s is the prettiest.

“You too...” He takes his pointer finger and swipes my cheek, collecting batter.

He brings his finger down to my lips and I take the batter, my lips curling around his finger. I watch his face change instantly, and I internally groan at the way he grips my jaw, just the same as before. He kisses me quick, not the same as last time, but still just as hard, and full.

He pulls away, and runs his tongue over his lips, “You taste like chocolate.”

“I wonder why.”

He releases me. I look down at myself, my white shorts ruined, his clothes stained too.

“Dear god if anyone passes me while I walk home I’m going to get so many stares,” I laugh to myself.

“Yeah, you’re not walking home this late... You can shower here. I’ll drive you home,” He tells me, nodding his head behind me. “Come on,” He starts walking, and normally I would protest, but my clothes are covered in brownie mix, there’s a cracked egg in my hair, and I don’t want to be like this any longer than I have to.

That was a cute idea for the list, but I never intended to do it. They never show the cleanup in the movies. At least it wasn’t my kitchen.

“I’ll help you clean up and then-”

“Don’t worry about it... Here,” He opens a door that’s right past the living room, and I realize now it’s his bedroom.

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