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“I have no idea why you think I’m lying. I just came from my room—”
“I heard you,” she said flatly. I pretended to be busy with opening the pack of chicken.
“Knife, I need a knife,” I said instead, moving over to where she stood to grab one from the knife block behind her on the counter. She flinched a bit as I reached behind her, close enough to her to feel the warmth of her body.
“Why are you so jumpy?” I teased, grabbing the knife and moving back to the island. She cleared her throat and folded her arms across her chest.
“I’m not.”
“Whatever you say, Satan.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“You don’t want to be Satan anymore? What should I call you then?”
She glared at me. “My actual name would be perfect.”
“Eh, that’s boring.”
“I don’t go around calling you asshole, so I’d appreciate you to just stick to calling me by my name. Not A, not Satan, or anything else you could manage to come up with.”
I sighed dramatically. “If you want to be boring Ashton, then fine.”
“You’re so dramatic,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“And you’re uptight,” I said as I sliced the chicken breasts. “When’s the last time you’ve been laid, girl? You sound like you need a nice roll in the sack to help with that attitude you have.”
“Excuse me?” she asked incredulously. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“No, it’s not, but you may need to do something about that. No one likes being around a moody woman,” I joked. I could feel her eyes boring into the side of my head before she stormed off. Yeah…probably took that too far. From the looks of it, maybe joking around with Satan wasn’t the best form of an ice breaker. Rocky’s warning of being gentle with her came to the front of my mind. Chris had claimed she’d gone crazy, but after being around her for a couple of days, I couldn’t see her doing anything too reckless. If she did do something insane, I’d bet money she was provoked somehow. Maybe I could get her to talk about it a little over dinner, granted that I hadn’t blown my chance of talking with my previous jokes.
A little while later, she finally came back into the kitchen, looking at the stove as I stirred the sauce, noodles, and chicken together.
“I guess you can cook after all,” she mused, leaning against the counter as she watched me.
“You haven’t tasted it yet.”
“That makes me nervous,” she said and grinned. That’s a start.
“Well, you’ll find out in a couple a minutes. Breadsticks will be out in a minute. I’ll bring your food to you,” I said. She placed a hand on her chest as her eyes widened.
“Oh wow, your peace offering is even being delivered to me! I feel like such a queen!” she said. The smile on her face was beautiful. I think it was the first time I’d seen her really smile at me. Her blue eyes twinkled in amusement before she finally turned and headed back to the living room.
“Oh, do you want wine?” I called out to her.
“You bought wine?”
“Duh. How can you have chicken alfredo without wine?” I teased. She smirked at me.
“I suppose I can have a little. I have to work after this, so not too much.”
“Aye, captain,” I said, turning off the stove.
I plated her food first and popped open the bottle of red wine, pouring her glass half way. Walking it over to her, I bowed slightly when she took it from my hands.
“My peace offering, my lady,” I said in my best English accent.
She giggled. “You’re so weird,” she said. I went back to plate my own food and grabbed a glass of wine before joining her on the couch. She took a fork full of food and let out a satisfied moan. “Oh God. I can’t even pretend. This is amazing.”
