Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cam
I placed the bag of groceries down on the kitchen island and turned to watch Andi.
She'd tied her hair back into a ball of red curls. Some of it had snuck out of her hair tie and sprang up to frame her face. The freckles on her nose stood out, illuminated by the sun slanting in as she stopped to look out at the ocean.
“I didn't realise you lived so close by.” She turned slowly to face me.
“Walking distance.” I started to pull the groceries out of the bag. Flour, eggs, milk, butter, cocoa powder, sugar. Everything the recipe listed.
“Convenient.” She smiled.
“We could carpool.” I grabbed out a bowl and spoon .
“You're usually there earlier than I am,” she said. “You cook?”
“I don't just cook,” I said, picking up the flour to start measuring the right amount. “I can bake.” I waved the spoon in the air like a flourish, and bowed.
“Impressive.” She stepped over and leaned her hip against the side of the island.
“Don't be too impressed, I haven't baked in years. Not since I helped my mother make birthday cakes. This could all go horribly wrong.”
“I can't bake at all. That may increase the odds of this being an absolute disaster.” She picked up my tablet and read the recipe. “Chocolate cupcakes?”
“I heard a rumor you like them,” I said. “I figured it was something we could do together.” I'd racked my brains, trying to think of something special I could do for her and came up with a list. This was the first item of many.
“Okay, where do we start?” she asked.
I glanced over at the recipe. “It says we have to cream the butter and sugar.”
I frowned and thought back. “I think that means we have to mix them together until they look creamy.” I measured the butter and put it into the bowl with the sugar, but then tapped at the butter with the spoon. It was cold and hard .
“This might take a while.” I picked up the bowl, tucked it into my elbow and started trying to stir the mixture. I gritted my teeth and worked at it until it finally started to soften. “This might be harder than playing hockey.”
“It certainly looks like it,” she agreed. “It says we have to sift the flour next. What does that mean?”
I peered over at the recipe. “I don't know. I guess we can just throw it into the bowl.”
I placed the bowl on the countertop and picked up the flour. The bottom of the bag broke, sending flour pouring down onto the black marble, and flying into the air like a puff of smoke.
“Shit.” I waved a hand in front of myself to clear the air. All I succeeded in doing was turning my hand white and scattering the flour even further. “That wasn't supposed to happen.”
Andi giggled. “I didn't think it was. Is there enough left in the bag for the cupcakes?”
I held up the bag in front of me and peered into one end. The end that was supposed to be open. I raised it higher and looked at her through the empty paper bag.
“Nope.” Flour was everywhere except where it was supposed to be. All over the island and drifting down to the floor. The front of my shirt was covered in it. My jeans too.
“I don't suppose we can bake a cake without it,” she said.
“Probably not,” I agreed, my smile growing playfully sly. “But we can do this.” I grabbed up two handfuls of flour and threw them at her. The fine powder hit her in the chest and chin, covering her skin and purple sweater.
For a moment, I thought she'd be angry. I cursed myself for acting so rash. She might walk right out the door and never speak to me again.
But then, she laughed and scooped up more of the flour to flick at me.
“Like that, is it?” I grinned. “You wanted a war? You've got one.” With the back of my hand, I scraped a pile of flour to the edge of the island and swept it in her direction.
She squealed and waved her hands in front of her face. “You suck.” But she was laughing and flicking flour back at me.
I picked up a couple of handfuls and stalked her around the island, while she tried to evade me.
“You can run, but you can't hide.” I grinned. I followed her around to the original pile of flour before realizing she'd drawn me there so she could grab up more and throw it at me. I ducked and threw mine at her legs.
I was laughing so hard, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I slipped on a pile of flour. Windmilling my arms, I lost my balance and fell on my ass.
She grabbed something off the counter and disappeared behind the island.
I wasn't sure where she was or what she was up to, until she appeared right behind me. With a giggle of glee, she cracked an egg directly over my head, the cold contents dribbling onto my hair. She threw the shell in the direction of the trash and bolted to the other side of the kitchen.
I sat on the floor and let the egg trickle down my head and over my face.
“You're really asking for it, you know that.” I wiped egg out of my eyes with the back of my hand.
“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it, Mr. North?”
I pushed myself to my feet and picked up the box of cocoa powder while looking right at her. I pushed my thumb under the cardboard and gave it an exaggerated swipe sideways to open it.
She shook her head. “You wouldn't.”
I pulled out the bag from inside the box. I tossed the box onto the island and pinched either side of the bag with my fingers. “Wouldn't I?” I stalked towards her.
“It would be a waste of perfectly good cocoa powder,” she argued. She stepped away from me, hands in front of her.
“I'll make a hefty donation to the food bank,” I said. Normally, I hated wasting food, but seeing her covered in flour was worth it.
“I will too,” she said. “But only if you don't throw it at me.”
I cocked my head at her. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Welling.” I folded the top of the bag and shoved it back into the box. “I guess I could order some cupcakes to be delivered.”
“At this point, that seems like a good idea,” she agreed. She wiped a hand over her face, but mostly succeeded in smudging the layer of flour, not removing any of it. “And cleaning all of this up.”
I glanced around and grimaced. We'd made a hell of a mess, but I didn't regret a moment of it. Seeing her laughing and enjoying herself was totally worth the amount of time it would take to exorcise all of the flour from the kitchen.
I scooped up my phone from the other side of the island. Somehow, it missed the worst of the flour fight. Bringing my head close to hers, I held up the phone in front of us, the camera on our flour-covered faces.
“While we look like this, we might as well go all the way and take a selfie. I promise I won't share it with the world. Unless you want me to. Say 'chocolate cupcakes.'"
She leaned in closer and smiled. “If only my mother could see me now. Chocolate cupcakes!”
I took a couple of pictures and put the phone back down. “I'll get this sorted, if you want to have a shower,” I offered.
Not gonna lie, I would have loved to have a shower with her, but I meant what I'd said. I wanted her to be comfortable with herself before I took her to bed.
Was I going to give myself the worst case of blue balls in history? Probably.
Did I care? No. I cared more about her than I did about getting off. She was more important to me than sex. More important than an hour or two of mind blowing and very gratifying intimacy.
I didn't want her for a night or two. I wanted her for the long run.
When I heard her come again, I'd know she was ready and committed. If that meant listening to her in my shower, and imagining her naked and wet, then so be it. I'd put myself through worse.
“Help yourself to whatever you can find in my closet,” I added.
She gave me a nervous glance, but stepped carefully towards my bedroom, leaving a trail of flour on the hardwood floor.
A few moments later, I heard the water turn on.
I waited for the protest from my balls and cock, but for once it didn't come. Yes, they throbbed at the idea of her being so close, and bare, but they seemed to understand the necessity of waiting for a while longer. They were more or less content to know it was a 'when' and not an 'if.'
As content as blue balls could be.
“Focus,” I told myself. I grabbed up a sponge and started to wipe down the island, before vacuuming quickly and mopping up the last of the mess.
I was just finishing up when she stepped out of my bedroom, dressed in a pair of my track pants and a Sea Dragons sweatshirt. They were both too big for her, but she looked more edible than when she was covered in food.
“You're so fucking gorgeous,” I said softly. “Especially wearing my clothes.”
She glanced down at herself. “I might have to get myself one of these sweatshirts. It's so soft and comfortable.” She fingered the fabric.
“Keep it,” I said. “I have plenty of them. And I just happen to know a place where I could get more.”
Like the rest of the team, I had a closet full of Sea Dragons merchandise, from sweatshirts, to T-shirts, track pants and even socks. Not to mention several caps in various colors. Wherever we went, we were a walking endorsement for our team.
“Me too,” she said. “But they don't offer very much in green. I might have to talk to someone about that.”
“That's a terrible oversight.” I rinsed the sponge under the faucet until it was clear of flour. “I knew the previous owner wasn't doing right by us, but I had no idea how deep it went.”
She laughed. “I don't think it was all bad. The team is a good one, we just need to tweak a few things. Hiring your sister was the start of that. I also want to bring in some more trainers for gym workouts. For other staff as well as the players. And replace the broken equipment in there.”
“We'd appreciate that,” I said. “Having to share three treadmills when the other three don't work kinda sucks.”
She frowned. “How long have they not worked? ”
I shrugged. “As long as I've been with the team. We're used to it by now.”
“You shouldn't have to be,” she said. “I'll get onto that. And finding somewhere for a daycare. That should have been a thing a long time ago too.”
“The staff will love that,” I agreed. Now I was picturing us both dropping off our kids in the daycare, while we went to work in other parts of the building.
One thing at a time , I told myself.
“I've ordered cupcakes and pizza,” I said. “They should be here right after I have a shower. Make yourself comfortable.” I waved at the sectional in front of the huge projector screen.
Her being here, in my apartment, felt right. Like she lived here already. I wanted her to. I wanted to wake up to her every morning, and hold her in my arms every night.
I didn't know when it happened, but I'd fallen in love with Andi Welling.