I laughed and kissed her, before proceeding to whisper the words in her ear once more.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Natalie
I whirled around the kitchen, trying to figure out what I needed to do next. The chicken was in the oven roasting with the potatoes and the carrots, and I had pasta boiling on the stove. I checked the cookbook for what seemed the hundredth time that hour. The recipe called for pasta cooked al dente, but I had no idea how to make sure.
“Fuck,” I blurted under my breath. “This is a nightmare.”
Just then, the timer went off on the oven, and I rushed forward to check the chicken. I opened it up and bent down. The carrots and potatoes looked golden and delicious, but the chicken looked practically anemic. I was nervous about leaving it in the oven for much longer though, especially because the vegetables were done, so I decided to take it out just to be safe.
I turned off the oven and then remembered that I needed to take my pasta out of the water. I had grown familiar with Chance’s kitchen, but that still didn’t mean I had developed any talent for actually using anything in it. The countertops were a mess, and the sink was already filled with pots and pans that I couldn’t even remember using.
“Why did I insist on cooking dinner,” I moaned.
I drained the pasta and put it into a bowl. I tried to check to see how my pasta was cooked and ended up burning one of my fingers. Then I got out my phone and Googled what to do if your chicken had no color and looked undercooked. One site suggested popping the chicken into a skillet and cooking it in some olive oil on the stovetop until it was cooked through.
Liking that idea, I grabbed another frying pan, added some oil and transferred the chicken. I put it on a low fire and let it cook through slowly. I decided to try and clean up a bit before Chance got home. I had made quite the mess, and even though I knew he wouldn’t mind, I didn’t want him to come home to that. He had another departmental meeting today, and those kinds of meetings usually ran late.
I was just about to start washing up everything in the sink when I heard a call come through. Believing it was Chance, I jumped to answer it, but I saw Missy’s name instead of Chance’s.
“Hello, stranger,” she said, the moment I picked up. “You recognize me? We used to be roommates once, a very long time ago. You probably don’t remember.”
I smiled. “You were always the dramatic one,” I said. “We’re still roommates.”
“Please, it’s been almost a month since you got back from Paris and ever since you got back, you’ve been practically living with Chance. I barely ever see you.”
“Oh, come on, we saw each other yesterday,” I reminded her.
“For like two seconds,” she said. “You said hi as you grabbed a bag and headed over to Chance’s place.”
“He was cooking me dinner,” I said. “I wanted to be punctual.”
“You mean you wanted to get to his place soon so that you could have wild sex on his kitchen table.”
I laughed. “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been a bit preoccupied lately. I haven’t been around much … I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“You will?” she asked. “How?”
I laughed. “Can I think on it?”
“No, I want promises,” she said. “I miss my best friend.”
“I miss you, too.”
“Bull,” Missy said, but I could tell she was amused. “You’re too in love with your hot professor to notice anyone else.”
“Hey, cut me some slack,” I said, without bothering to deny it. “He’s my first love.”
“Tell me again.”
“Tell you about?”
“Paris,” Missy said with a wistful sigh.
“I’ve already told you everything about Paris.”
“So, tell me again,” she demanded. “I have to resort to living vicariously through you because of my highly disappointing love life.”