34. Avery

CHAPTER 34

AVERY

My apartment smelled like a fresh start, a tantalizing mix of lavender from the candles and the earthy aroma of fresh pizza dough. As I bustled around the kitchen, my heart raced with excitement. I turned to glance at Creed, who leaned against the kitchen island, his broad shoulders relaxed yet radiating a familiar intensity that always made my stomach flutter.

"Okay, Chef Creed," I said, pulling out the ingredients for our homemade pepperoni pizza. "What's the next step?"

He smirked, those green eyes sparkling with mischief. "First, we have to set the mood. You know, cooking is all about the right vibe."

"Right, right," I chuckled, grabbing my phone. "What do you want to listen to?"

"Anything but classical," Creed teased, his voice playful. "Unless you want to serenade me with some Mozart."

"Ha! Not happening." I tapped open my Spotify app, ready to create our official Cooking Playlist. "Let's make this a real date. I need your top song picks."

Creed stepped closer, brushing against me as he leaned in to look at my phone. The warmth of his body sent a rush of heat through me, and I focused on the task at hand. "How about ‘Dancing Queen'?" he suggested, grinning widely.

"Classic! But we might need to warm up first. What else?" I smiled, nudging him gently with my shoulder.

He pretended to think hard, tapping his chin dramatically. "Okay, I'm going with ‘Uptown Funk.' You can't go wrong with Bruno Mars."

"Nice choice," I nodded, adding it to our playlist. "I'll throw in ‘Shape of You' by Ed Sheeran. I have a history with that one." I raised my eyebrows suggestively, hoping to elicit a reaction.

"Oh? Do tell!" Creed leaned in, looking genuinely intrigued.

I waved my hand dismissively. "Just some embarrassing karaoke moments in college. You can imagine the chaos."

Creed laughed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "I can picture it. You, a microphone, and your friends cheering you on. Now that's a sight I need to see."

"Maybe one day," I said, resting my phone down on the counter. "Now, back to the pizza. We need to roll this out."

I kneaded the dough and Creed stepped in to help, his strong hands working alongside mine. The kitchen filled with playful banter and laughter, the sound of dough squelching between our fingers, and the warmth of the moment enveloped me.

"Do you even know how to make pizza?" I teased, noticing how he was rolling the dough in a way that seemed… less than expert.

He shrugged, his expression mock-serious. "I've watched enough cooking shows to know how to look good while making a mess."

"True," I said, chuckling. "At least you're nailing the ‘looking good' part."

I couldn't help but watch Creed move around the space. His fitted flannel shirt hugged his shoulders perfectly, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the strong lines of his arms. He looked so at home, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration as he kneaded the pizza dough. There was something captivating about the way he focused, as if every movement had purpose. My heart swelled at the thought that this rugged man was here with me, making memories in my home, and he was mine. Oh yeah. My boyfriend looked good. So good, I could eat him… which I planned to do later.

Once we had the dough rolled out, I started layering the sauce, cheese, and pepperoni. "What's next?" I asked, glancing up at him as he stared intently at my every move.

"More pepperoni! Always more pepperoni!" he declared dramatically, throwing his hands up like a conductor directing an orchestra.

I laughed and piled on the slices, feeling warmth blossom in my chest. This was fun—real fun. I felt so relaxed and at ease, and I could tell Creed did too. I put the pizza in the oven.

"Okay, let's add some more music to this masterpiece," I said, nudging my phone toward him. "What's next?"

He scrolled through our growing playlist, his brow furrowing slightly. "How about ‘Mr. Brightside'? It's a classic breakup anthem, but it always gets me hyped."

"Great choice!" I beamed, watching him tap it into our playlist. "What about you? What does that song remind you of?"

"It reminds me of my childhood," he admitted, his tone softer now. "My mom used to play it while we were cleaning the house. We'd dance around and make up silly lyrics. It was a good time."

After several more songs and laughter, the timer for the pizza dinged. I quickly opened the oven, the aroma of freshly baked dough and melting cheese wafting out.

"Now, that's a pizza!" Creed exclaimed, eyes wide with approval.

"Want to slice it up?" I asked, handing him the pizza cutter. He took it with a flourish, spinning it around like a sword.

"Prepare yourself, pizza!" he declared, cutting through the cheese with exaggerated concentration.

"Don't cut yourself, Chef," I teased, leaning against the counter, watching him slice.

After he finished, I placed two slices on each plate and handed him a cold beer. "Let's enjoy our masterpiece."

We settled onto the couch, our plates in our laps, the glow of the lamp illuminating the room. The playlist we created played softly in the background, the first notes of "Uptown Funk" filling the air.

"You know," I began, taking a bite of the pizza. "I never thought cooking could be this much fun. You've definitely raised the bar for first real dates."

Creed smirked, taking a bite of his slice. "I aim to impress. And the pizza turned out surprisingly edible. That's a win."

"Hey! I'll have you know that it's an award-winning recipe." I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help but smile.

We spent the next few moments eating, laughter punctuating the air as we jokingly critiqued each other's cooking skills. The atmosphere was light, filled with camaraderie and the kind of connection that felt electric.

"I've got an idea for our next cooking adventure," I said, leaning forward, excitement bubbling in my chest. "How about we tackle homemade sushi?"

"Sushi? You mean I get to roll rice and fish while pretending to be a culinary genius? Count me in!" Creed laughed, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

"Perfect! I'll bring the sake."

Just as the conversation began to flow smoothly, I turned on the TV and scrolled through Netflix, looking for something to watch. Creed leaned against me, and I could feel the warmth of his body seep into mine. "What do you feel like watching?" I asked.

"Something light, maybe a comedy? We need more laughter in our lives," he suggested.

"Agreed. How about that new rom-com?" I pointed to the screen, and he nodded.

As the movie started, I could feel Creed's gaze linger on me between scenes. I turned to catch his eye, and he smiled, a genuine one that made my heart skip.

"You seem to be doing even better since you confronted your family," Creed said, his voice low and caring.

I leaned back against the couch. "I finally stood up for myself, and I'm damn proud of that."

Creed smiled softly, relief evident in his eyes. "I'm proud of you too, Ave. You're stronger than you think."

"Thanks. It felt good to finally be honest." I rested my head on his shoulder, savoring the warmth of his presence. "And thanks for tonight. This is the best first date I could have imagined."

"Only the beginning," he replied softly, his hand finding mine, fingers entwining effortlessly.

The movie played on, but my focus shifted from the screen to the man beside me. Every laugh and shared glance pulled us closer, making it impossible to ignore the chemistry crackling between us.

As the credits rolled, I felt the air shift, a weight of anticipation settling around us. "What now?" I asked, glancing at him, my heart racing.

He met my gaze, his eyes darkening with intention. "I think it's time for a celebration."

"Of our pizza-making skills?" I joked, but the way he leaned closer made my breath hitch.

"Of this moment," he replied, his voice low, sending shivers down my spine.

Before I could process what was happening, he closed the distance, capturing my lips with his. The kiss started soft, a gentle exploration, but quickly deepened into something more urgent, more consuming. I melted into him, my heart racing as the heat between us intensified.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the solid warmth of his body against mine. He responded by deepening the kiss, his hands sliding to my waist, igniting every nerve ending in my body. When we finally broke apart, breathless, I gazed into his eyes, overwhelmed by the connection we shared.

"I want to fuck you thoroughly tonight."