Page 43 of Trust Me

I grunted my agreement.

“Hey,” he said. “Since we’re dating now, maybe you’ll rub my feet.”

Looking at him, I narrowed my eyes. His smile was mischievous, and it was hard to fake annoyance.

“You're hilarious, you know,” I replied, heavy on the sarcasm.

“Cass will be heartbroken when she learns we broke up.”

“Jesus. I’m gonna go tell them now.”

When I made as if to stand up, he put a hand on my leg firmly, his fingers digging into my skin. “Come on. Let them be happy for another day.”

My serious façade broke, and I laughed as I shoved his arm away. “Fine, but only cause they’re nice.”

“Want to kick some ass in Rocket League?” he asked.

“I don’t have much time.”

“You have plenty. And if you lose, you cook dinner tomorrow.”

“I don’t know how.”

He gasped dramatically. “Do you know what year it is, Dean? Don’t tell me you expect a woman to do that for you.”

“No, but I didn’t exactly have a kitchen in the dorm, and what we did back home was minimal.”

“Luckily for you, there is a fully functional kitchen just outside your bedroom door. Feel free to burn a few dishes on your way to culinary fame.”

Actually, learning to cook did sound fun. I might just rise to the challenge. My parents would be super impressed if I came home and was able to whip up a carbonara for them. First, though, I’d have to learn what a carbonara was.