DominicSame evening, after our little kitchen disaster, I told her to get dressed. “We’re going out,” I said, standing by the counter, watching her confusion spread across her face.“Out? Now?” she asked, wiping her hands on a towel, still smelling faintly like burnt sauce.“Yes, right now. Come on.”She blinked at me, like she was trying to figure out if I was serious. “You’re kidding, right? We just—”“No,” I cut in, “you tried to kill me with pasta. You owe me an actual dinner.”Her mouth fell open for a second, then she laughed, shaking her head. “God, I can't get used to this.”“Ten minutes,” I said, ignoring her protest and heading upstairs. I didn’t know why I suddenly wanted to take her out. Maybe it was guilt for teasing her too much. Maybe I just didn’t want the night to end like that.By the time I came back down, she was still in her room. I leaned against the wall outside, glancing at my watch. I was about to knock when the door opened, and for a second, I forgot what I
Last Updated : 2025-10-18 Read more