Chapter 14 – Kat
FOURTEEN
KAT
Holding the printed recipe in one hand and a bag of ingredients in the other, I push open the heavy door to the frat house and am immediately engulfed by laughter and music. The thumping beat of the bass vibrates through my body, adding to the excitement buzzing in the air. I bask in the inviting warmth as I navigate through the crowded entryway toward the back of the house. The scent of cooking food and spilled beer fills my nose as I enter the bustling kitchen, where people are moving about with purpose and energy, each working on a dish for tonight’s potluck dinner.
The counter is littered with dishes, quite a few of which are desserts—mostly cookies.
“Tanner!” I yell, but it comes out more of a growl.
“You rang?” Tanner appears in the entryway.
“What happened to there will be no dessert ? Hm?”
A mischievous smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, revealing a glint of amusement in his eyes. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, a telltale sign of someone who has been caught red-handed.
“Tanner!”
“Did I say no dessert? That’s my bad. I meant…no cheesecake. We needed cheesecake.”
“We didn’t need cheesecake—it’s not like it’s a traditional Thanksgiving dessert,” Jenna interjects over her shoulder as she stirs something at the stove.
“No one asked, Jenna.” Tanner sticks his tongue out at her, then turns toward me with a smile on his face. “I am sorry I deceived you. What I meant was…I needed cheesecake.”
“You’re an ass.” I laugh.
“You love it,” he says with a wink before walking over to Jenna and sticking a spoon in the pot she’s stirring. “Needs salt.”
“It’s pudding,” she says. His shocked expression causes her glare to intensify. “I’m making a trifle.”
“That’s pudding? Might I recommend…” He walks into the pantry and reemerges with two Jell-O instant pudding mixes. “These?”
“Kat’s right—you are an ass!” Jenna laughs as she yanks the boxes from his grasp, then shuts off the burner on the stove.
Tanner walks past me and the moment our eyes meet, he shakes his head with wide eyes. “Don’t eat the trifle.”
I roll my eyes and find open counter space, push up my sleeves, and set to work in the cramped kitchen. I blend together cream cheese, sugar, vanilla, and the rest of the ingredients until they form a smooth, velvety mixture. The sweet aroma of vanilla extract wafts through the air, filling every corner of the room. Carefully, I pour the creamy concoction into a springform pan lined with crushed-up graham crackers and slide it into the preheated oven. Beads of sweat trickle down my temples as I anxiously wait for my first-ever homemade cheesecake to bake to perfection. With each minute that passes, my hopes rise and my prayers grow stronger. The anticipation is almost unbearable, but I know that this will be worth it in the end.
“Hey, babe.” Elijah appears in the kitchen, clad only in a pair of basketball shorts. He approaches me and presses a kiss to my temple.
“Hey,” I say, but I don’t look away from the oven as I count the moments until I can check the cheesecake.
“Did the oven do something to you?” he whispers in my ear, providing commentary on my odd appliance fixation.
“My cheesecake is in there.”
“Does the recipe call for eyes on the oven at all times?” He raises a brow, an amused smirk spread across his lips.
“Shut up,” I laugh as I smack him in the arm.
He darts away and roams about the kitchen, silently perusing the fixings being prepared. As he approaches Jenna, he notices the pot sitting unattended on the stove. He does exactly what Tanner did and dips a spoon into the silky brown mixture, licking it before turning to Jenna.
“Needs salt,” he says, tossing the spoon into the sink.
“Get out!” She points to the kitchen doorway, irritation plastered across her face.
As he yields to Jenna’s warning, Elijah shoots me a wink. It is only then I notice Tanner silently laughing in the doorway.
“ Assholes ,” I mouth to the both of them .
The two men take it in stride, smiling cheekily before allowing us to cook in peace.
With oven mitts on, I carefully pull out the springform pan and set it on a cooling rack. The crust is perfectly golden and the filling is just set with a slight jiggle in the center. A sense of relief washes over me as I admire my successfully baked cheesecake.
“It looks great!” Jenna peers at it in awe.
“Thanks!” I set the cheesecake aside to free up the oven, assuming that they need it for the turkey.
Then I look out the back window of the kitchen to see Marcus and Brendan huddled around a deep frier.
“Do they not know how dangerous those things are?” I ask no one in particular.
“Oh, they’re fully aware. They’re just stupid,” Jenna responds, not even bothering to look up from her task.
With my cooking done, I venture out into the living room, where most of the guys—save for a few brothers in the kitchen—are huddled around the TV watching football.
“Is there a game on today?” I ask, confused.
“No, this is a replay of the Browns game from Monday,” a brother replies.
I just nod, not particularly concerned with the schedules set forth by the NFL, and plop down onto the couch between Elijah and Tanner. Elijah notices my presence almost immediately, leaning into the couch and draping his arm across the back behind me.
We’ve settled into a newfound rhythm as of late, and I’ll be honest—I love the way he’s been acting. It’s like the impenetrable fortress erected around his heart is slowly being removed and I adore watching it happen .
Especially when it is because of me.
I lean into his side as the rest of the guys hoot and holler at the game. “Did they not…watch the game on Monday?” I whisper to Elijah.
“Oh, they did.” He smirks. The confusion plaguing my expression must register, because he continues, “It’s hard to explain; don’t think too much on it.”
And that is that, I guess.
A loud crash sounds from the kitchen. That can’t be good.
“I’m okay, I’m okay!” Marcus yells.
My eyes meet Elijah’s and we both lunge toward the kitchen to see what catastrophe awaits us.
The turkey—the freshly fried turkey that Marcus and Brendan had been so excited about—is now on the kitchen floor. An expression I can only liken to shame plagues Marcus’s face as he stares down at the bird.
Thankfully, no one—not even Tanner—is dumb enough to ask how that happened. We all just accept that we’ll be having Friendsgiving sans turkey.
Well, not completely sans turkey. Marcus and Brendan are able to carve it in a way to avoid the side that landed against the kitchen floor.
We clear off the beer pong table set up in the dining room and spread a festive red tablecloth over it, atop which we arrange mismatched plates and silverware. Candles light up the otherwise dimly lit frat house. It is a warm and inviting scene, a welcome reprieve from the chaos of classes.
Almost no one reaches for the turkey. I can’t help but notice the sadness in Marcus’s eyes as he notices everyone’s aversion to it .
“Can I get some turkey, please?” I ask as I extend my plate toward Marcus.
His eyes widen in surprise, then crinkle with joy as he reaches for my plate. “Of course!” He grins from ear to ear, piling far more turkey than I need atop my plate.
The clock strikes 9:00 PM, and despite the fact that most of us would love nothing more than to keel over and slip into food comas, the guys offer to clear the table and do the dishes.
When he’s finished drying the dishes, Elijah asks, “Are you staying the night?”
I hadn’t thought so far ahead, but I nod.
A smile blooms on his lips. “Good,” he says before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Head upstairs. I’ll be right up.”
“Okay.”
The moment my head hits the pillow, I know with certainty that nothing is happening between us tonight. If I’m being honest, I’m not even sure I could manage as I’m on the verge of busting at the seams anyway.