AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Still sitting in a plastic bag. I seem to have lost my appetite. How’s the steak?
Beep.
About to go in the pan. It’s filet. How long should I cook it for?
Ah, that’s the last thing I want to hear.
Don’t torture me. You get to eat steak and you’re going to ruin it.
Typing…
How about we call a truce long enough for me to make your tofu edible and for you to cook me a steak?
As I ponder the options, my cell announces another text.
I have hot oil in the pan…
Screw it. Even Izzy’s company beats the hell out of dwelling on what could have been.
On my way.
14
BROOKS
Day 2
I admit, the tofu wasn’t so bad when Izzy cooked it with Thai spices. She’s a good cook. I say that with surprise because I got the impression she has had a butler to do her cooking all her life. I’ll also confess, it was nice having company. That’s maybe the truth behind why I’m knocking on her apartment door right now, under the guise of making her eggs for breakfast.
‘Hey, come in. Sorry I’m not dressed; you’ve got me up a heck of a lot earlier than I’m used to.’
I follow her tiny bed shorts and white T-shirt to the kitchen, not sorry at all.
‘What culinary delight do I get today?’ I ask.
‘You get a blueberry smoothie. Don’t look like that. It has banana in there; it will fill you up.’
‘If only that were true.’
Sticking her tongue out, she puts the lid on the blender she has already filled and sets it whirring.
‘You’re going to wake the whole damn building up with that thing.’
‘What?’
‘You’re waking my cock up wearing those tiny things.’
‘I can’t hear you!’
Chuckling to myself, I move around her and take eggs from her fridge. We shuffle past each other, finding glasses, pans, and cutlery as we each make the other breakfast. When she doesn’t have an audience, she isn’t so bad, I suppose.
‘You’re very messy in the kitchen, mister. Haven’t the women in your life ever taught you how to clean as you go?’
‘Careful, Coulthard, I could still spit in your eggs at this stage.’
She nudges my shoulder.
‘No, to answer your question. The only woman I’ve ever lived with is my mother, and she was really more of the take-out type.’
