What if we Drown (29)

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height


Ashlyn closed the lid of her computer then turned on the sofa, so she looked at Derek.

She rested her arm next to his on the back of it and rested her chin on the back of her hand. Her eyes were level with his as she searched for the answers to the questions she'd never dared to ask.

She gave a small smile.

Derek reached across to brush her cheek, capturing a stray curl.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, tucking the strand behind her ear, his fingertips tickling the fine hairs that stood on end. She shrugged, her appetite for food not currently on her mind. She was, however, hungry for something else, the untapped desires that his touch inspired.

Her cheek began to feel hot against the back of her hand, and she worried that these desires would be clearly displayed to him, like an open book.

Derek grinned and patted the back of her shoulder.

"I'm starving. Come on, let's make some lunch." Derek pulled himself to his feet and took her hand, pulling the arm out from beneath her chin. She let her jaw drop to the cushion that lined the back of the sofa, but she did not make a move to follow.

Derek let go and crossed the floor to the kitchen, his laughter falling behind him.

With a groan, Ashlyn dropped her head and buried her face in the top of a cushion, mentally begging her body to stop reacting the way that it did.

She banged her head into the cushion several times, willing her hormones to stop embarrassing her whenever he was around.

You're not some lovesick teenager, she mentally chastised herself. No matter how many times she reminded herself of this fact, her mind refused to acknowledge it, always finding an exception. She'd missed out on these experiences as a teen, and her mind thought it was right to make up for that now.

She heard the sound of a throat clearing, and froze, her face smooshed into a cushion.

"Is spaghetti okay with you?" Derek asked with humor in his voice.

Ashlyn lifted her head and gave an awkward grin, her cheeks widening to conceal her chagrin. She felt confident that Derek had seen what just happened. That's what she got for taking out some walls and creating one big open space. She only hoped he hadn't seen it all.

She nodded swiftly, the motion slightly disorienting. Derek only grinned and turned his back to place the bag of spaghetti on the counter.

With a resolute sigh, Ashlyn climbed over the back of the sofa and walked towards the kitchen, pulling her hair back into a high ponytail.

In the few seconds that it took for her to compose herself and cross to the kitchen, Derek had already made quick work on pulling everything from the fridge and pantry. A pot of water was already on the stove, waiting to come to the boil.

She stood on the other side of the kitchen island and watched as he diced tomatoes. When she tried to reach over and steal a piece of tomato, he playfully swatted her hand away, shaking his head.

"I need those for the sauce," he laughed and slid the chopping board further down the island, out of her reach. Grinning, Ashlyn stepped around to stand at his side, taking the onions and preparing to dice them into fine slivers.

Ashlyn squinted against the burning in her eyes, when the onions inflicted their last stab of pain before they met their demise. After all these years working at Salt, preparing meals, she would have expected she'd be used to the burn and the odor. Onions were sadly an exception.

A soft chuckle broke the air beside her as Derek reached around her to collect the halved onions. He took each half and ran it under some water, explaining it as a trick his mother had taught him for when working with onions. He ran each half under the tap before handing them to her, his fingers staying in the palm of her hand for a moment longer than necessary.

The smile she gave was muted, downcast towards their hands, before she turned back to the chopping board and knife, and made slow work of dicing the onion. Derek returned to the tomatoes, the two of them quietly working together, their elbows almost knocking.

"How about I teach you my father's spaghetti sauce recipe?" Derek grinned, the last of the tomatoes diced and ready to cook. Ashlyn was touched by his willingness to share a family recipe with her, and quickly diced the remaining half of an onion.

The whole ordeal had Ashlyn feeling a sense of deja vu, thinking back on the last time they'd been in the kitchen, cooking together. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.

Cooking with Kass had always been exhilarating. The lady knew how to cook up a storm and was a fountain of culinary knowledge.

But cooking with Derek was different. It was carefree, fun. If things went wrong, as they did when she added too much salt to the simmering sauce, Derek took it in his stride. For Kass, such a mistake would have been the end of the world. For Derek, it was a new path to travel, the final destination an exciting mystery.

When the sauce had begun to simmer, and the pasta had been drained, Derek dipped his finger into the mix and brought it to his mouth, a satisfied sigh passing his lips.

"Alright, that should be enough," he grinned, reaching in front of her to turn the stove off. She nodded and lifted the pot, struggling a little at the weight of it, then turned to face Derek at the island.

"Okay, now you can pour the sauce in. Careful now," Derek guided her, helping her to lift the pot when she struggled. When she had a sturdy grip, he resumed stirring the pot of spaghetti in front of him as she slowly poured in the sauce.

"A little faster," he encouraged when only a few dribbles came out at a time. Gritting her teeth, Ashlyn tried to adjust the angle of the pot.

Sensing her struggle, Derek stopped stirring to help her readjust, his hand reaching for one of the handles. But, Ashlyn misread the gesture, her grip loosening on the handle to make space for his. Quicker than a blink, the pot fell to the countertop with an eruption of tomato sauce.

Ashlyn gasped, jumping back as hot tomato splattered across her face and her front. Wiping the sauce from her eyes, she turned to look at Derek with wide eyes, her mouth forming an O. Derek had been no more fortunate enough to escape the tomato blast. Chunks of tomato clung to his face and his hair, and she knew that his blue shirt would never be blue again.

His chest convulsed before a burst of roaring laughter burst from within, as he gazed back at her through the chunks that stuck to his lashes.

She reached up to wipe the mess from his face, her hands trembling as she tried not to laugh. She lasted all of three seconds before her lips parted and laughter stole her breath. Ashlyn's ribs ached with the force of it, a gasp tearing through her as she hunched slightly to reduce the mirrored convulsions that moved through her.

You're a mess, she laughed, shaking her hands over the now half-empty pot of sauce.

"I'm a mess?" he asked, taking a step towards her, a playful tone to his voice, but a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

She nodded the laughter still in her cheeks and her eyes. She took a step back and almost slipped on some sauce on the floor.

Derek promptly caught her and pulled her against his chest, locking her arms against him.

"You're not nearly messy enough," he laughed, rubbing his face against hers until they were both covered in sauce. Ashlyn couldn't even put up a solid fight, the laughter that trembled through her making her an easy target.

The newly formed scruff of his cheeks tickled against her neck as she leaned her head back, the rough texture contrasting with the slippery sauce he smeared across it.

Ashlyn managed to lean back and create enough space between them to press her hands against his chest. With her hands, she smeared the sauce that coated their shirts between them as she tried to push him away. Her attempts were only half-hearted, however, while the child inside her was having an absolute blast.

One of her hands snaked up and slathered a mess of chunky tomato down the side of his face, several pieces sticking to his brow and eyelashes.

She jumped back - as far as she could with his arms tight around her waist- and laughed with fright when Derek tried to bite the palm of her hand as it moved across his lips. His teeth barely grazed the surface, and a shiver trembled through her. Ashlyn quickly composed herself and pulled her other hand up, dipping it in the pot of sauce, and rubbed it down the other side of his face, a mischievous smile breaking her cheeks.

"Truce. I call a truce!" Derek shouted around the tomato that had fallen in his mouth, a piece hitting her chin. A laugh followed his words. They stepped apart from one another, and it took all of her restraint not to laugh at how bad he looked. Judging by the way he bit on his lower lip, she was sure she must have looked just as terrible.

His eyes moved over her and shifted to the pot of spaghetti between them, still missing much of its sauce.

"The two of us can never cook with tomato sauce ever again," he laughed, examining the mess around them. Ashlyn looked around her, and she couldn't even be mad. This had been the most fun she had had in a long time, and she would have done it all over again.

She dared to lift her gaze towards the ceiling and covered her face at what she saw. How was she ever going to get the stains off of the roof?

She felt his hands cover hers as he pulled her hands away.

"I'm sorry about the ceiling. I promise we will get it cleaned up and looking new again." Ashlyn nodded, feeling a brief reprieve that at least she hadn't started work on the ceilings for the renovations. "But first, we should probably get you cleaned up," he added with a bright smile.

Before she could protest or start cleaning some of the bigger messes, his arms were around her waist, and he lifted her onto the corner of the island.

Running a cloth underwater, Derek began to wipe the sauce away from her forehead, her cheeks, her throat. He worked his fingers through her curls, pulling out pieces of tomato and onion, his fingers massaging her scalp as they worked.

Everywhere that he touched burned, his touch igniting the desires she'd tried to suppress. Her breath was shallow as she watched him work, his eyes following the cloth.

His knuckles grazed along her jawline as he cleaned the side of her face, his fingertips brushing the corner of her mouth as he wiped the bridge of her nose. They lingered on her mouth for a moment longer, the pad of his thumb brushing her bottom lip.

She gulped when his eyes lifted to meet hers, a desire burning fervently in their depths. Up and down, her chest rose with the force of her breathing.

What would it take, she wondered, to close that gap between them. An inch? Maybe two?

As though guided by the mere thought of it, Ashlyn began to lean towards him, the invisible thread that bound their chests, pulling them closer towards one another.

Derek's thumb slid from her lip, his hand gently holding the side of her neck, his body remaining motionless. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she appreciated that he was allowing her to come to him.

She stopped moving when a fraction of distance stood between their faces, the thread lax. It was evident to her that this was as far as it would lead her. That final breath of distance had to be closed by her, and her alone.

But she couldn't do it. She wasn't ready, not yet. She leaned against Derek for a moment, her forehead pressed to his, and her eyes shut as she breathed in the scent of salt and vanilla with a lingering tomato balm.

The hand he'd held around her neck wrapped further around, reaching up to play with one of the loose curls at the nape of her neck. His breath was a gentle sigh across her lips.

He didn't speak, only held her there while she mentally kicked herself for not seizing the moment. Fear was a fickle witch.

When the fog that clouded her mind lifted, Ashlyn pulled back to search for his eyes, hidden somewhere beneath the chunky sauce that dripped from his forehead.

He chuckled, and his hand slipped from her neck. It stalled for a moment on her arm before falling to his side. She watched as it glided across her skin before she brought her gaze back to his.

My turn, she signed, sliding from the counter and grabbing a clean cloth from the drawer. She left the cold water running for a little longer than necessary while she calmed her racing heart. When she was confident she couldn't stall any longer, she wrung the cloth and turned to face Derek.

He stood with his back against the island, his hand clutching the corner as he drew a deep, unsteady breath.

Cautiously she stepped towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder while she began wiping the sauce from his hair. Her fingers twisted around the chestnut locks around his ears, reveling at how soft they were, how lovely it felt to run her fingers through it. It was something she'd wanted to do many times before.

Ashlyn stepped closer, her toes touching his, and stood on the tips of her toes to reach the top of his head. She had to lean against him to reach the top, and the proximity and heat radiating from his body were causing her head to spin.

She brushed a piece of tomato from his crown before the air caught in her throat at Derek's loud swallow. His hand caught her arm and brought it down so that her hand and the cloth touched his cheek.

His eyes closed as he inhaled the scent at her wrist: Berry and champagne. Her legs felt weak, and her arms trembled, the soiled cloth almost falling to the floor. Slowly, his eyes opened again and seared her senses.

She realized then the intoxicating effect his touch, his presence, had on her. She felt towards him things that a person shouldn't feel for their friend. And when he looked at her that way, she wondered if he didn't feel it too.

She quickly turned away to rinse the cloth and collected her thoughts. Any longer gazing into those pits of craving and she'd have been lost to herself, a puddle of putty in his expert hands.

Taking another deep breath, Ashlyn turned and resumed her work, with a slightly clearer head. With one hand, she cupped his cheek, and with the other, she gently dabbed along his jawline, concealing her disappointment that he had shaved that morning.

She briskly wiped around his mouth, averting her gaze at his sharp intake of breath, then moved to rub the side of his neck. Her hand slipped beneath the collar of his shirt as she wiped away the sauce that had spread during her struggle.

A shudder rippled through him at her touch, and her other hand tightened around his shoulder. She could almost feel his tremor as it traveled through her fingertips and into her bones.

She could feel his stare burning into the back of her head, his breath a hot fan across her neck. She kept her eyes trained on his throat, too scared to see what desires he held in his gaze, or hers.

She was traipsing through dangerous waters by doing this, and she realized she liked it. And she knew that he did too.

By the time she had finished, they were both breathing shallowly, their skin flushed. Neither of them could look the other in the eye, nor could they withstand the distance between them, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife.

In the last hour, cooking and cleaning together, Ashlyn had uncovered the answer to her question from earlier. There was no way that this man was indifferent to her, nor she to him.


Half an hour later, they both fell into the bar stools with satisfied sighs. The last of the sauce had been scrubbed from the kitchen surfaces, their dirty shirts were spinning in the washing machine, and two heaped plates of cold spaghetti sat before them.

Ashlyn could barely manage to eat a couple of bites, her stomach scarcely able to contain itself after the afternoon's entertainment. All the food managed to do was make her stomach turn, and remind her of what had happened in the preparation stages.

It seemed that Derek had also lost his appetite when he turned to her and pushed his plate away. His smile was small as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand and watched her fingers as they danced absently across the spines of the books he'd brought with him.

Ashlyn returned his smile with the ghost of one before she glanced away, opening the cover of one of the books and flicked through several pages. The words danced across the page, speaking tales of chivalry and anguish, war, victory, and hope. Tales that she couldn't wait to dive deeper into that night.

She closed the book again and blushed when she realized that he'd been watching her as she read.

Thank you again for the books. You really didn't have to do that, Ashlyn smiled, thankful that they'd been saved from the tomato sauce massacre. She gathered them in her hands and deposited them on the sideboard.

"It really was no trouble, Ash. They were just gathering dust at mine, and I know you'll put them to good use." Though he said that he was happy to help, she couldn't silence the guilt that fed on her doubts. The still small voice in her head told her that he was only doing things like this - the books, the lunches, the sweet messages - to prove something to her, things that didn't need proving.

If she was honest with herself, as much as she appreciated the gestures, the extra attention was beginning to make her feel uncomfortable. The way that things had been previously between them had been perfect as it was. She feared that telling him so would only inflict the guilt upon him, but it had to be done.

All of these things that you've been doing, you know that as much as I appreciate the kindness, it is not them I care for? Just having you here is all I could ever want or need. She cupped his cheek and searched his eyes, hoping she hadn't overstepped or said something wrong. She was new to this whole expressing her feelings business and wasn't sure how it was supposed to be done.

Derek brought up his hand to cover hers, enveloping it like a warm hug of assurance. She was relieved to see the softness in his eyes, the passion she'd witnessed earlier hidden to her now. A veiled memory. He was the same Derek he'd been every day prior, that same man with the gentle spirit and open heart.

Ashlyn was relieved to know that they could still share in these kinds of moments. He seemed to understand what

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net