Pasta Pick Up Lines Novels & Stories

I stared at him. “Excuse me?” Ava covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. “Eli…” “What?” he defended. “It is.” I pointed toward the dining room. “Food. Now.” He sighed dramatically. “Cake and iced tea.” I raised an eyebrow. “That’s your dinner?” He shrugged. “Yes.” Ava thought for a moment. “Same. Or maybe a pastry.” She paused. “I’m actually craving Mom’s pasta.” My chest tightened again. Her pasta.

We gathered around the stove, eager to taste the fruits of our labor. Lucy set the table while Jay and Vicky carefully placed the freshly cooked pasta into bowls. I ladled the fragrant puttanesca sauce over the pasta, the vibrant colors of tomatoes, olives, and capers dancing together in perfect harmony. As we sat down to eat, the atmosphere was filled with joy and laughter. We shared stories and jokes, and slowly, Jay started to open up. He cracked a smile every now and then, and I considered it a small win.

**Khalid:** I’ll wait. The penthouse smelled like garlic, herbs, and something savory when I arrived just after eight. Khalid stood in the open kitchen, sleeves rolled up, stirring a pan with more focus than I’d seen him give most things lately. He looked up as I set my bag down, and for a moment, the smile he gave me reached his eyes. “Pasta puttanesca,” he said. “Your favorite. Or at least it used to be.” I slipped off my heels, the cool marble soothing my aching feet. “It still is.”

The waiter's face instantly turned pale. "Sir, I don't understand what you're talking about. There must be some misunderstanding." "There's no misunderstanding. I heard what you said." I repeated the word for 'pauper' in the foreign language he'd used. "I didn't realize a waiter could have such an attitude. Is this how you treat your customers? Apologize now, or this won't be the end of it." Since it was my girlfriend's birthday, I didn't want to make a scene. I just wanted a sincere apology.

The driver opened the door for them, and Pia led her inside with a gentle touch on her arm. They sat at a corner table. The waiter approached with a polite smile. “Good afternoon, Señoras. What would you like to order?” Pia looked at Kathalina. “What do you feel like?” “I don’t know… something light. Pasta, maybe?” “Perfect. Two plates of pasta, one steak, fresh juice, and a bottle of sparkling water,” Pia ordered smoothly. Kathalina raised her eyebrow. “That sounds like a lot.” “You need strength,” Pia said simply, offering a small smile.

“You’re cute when you sound possessive like that. Her cooking doesn’t change anything, though. I don’t want you to stress yourself.” “I know,” I said shyly. “But I want to. Please.” He hesitated, then said in that soft, boyish tone he used when he was unsure, “Then… maybe pasta? If that’s not too hard.” I smiled instantly. “Pasta it is.” “Okay. I’ll look forward to it then.” “Good,” I said, grinning. We both went quiet again. I could tell he didn’t know how to end the call—and honestly, neither did I.

he stated. I sat up straight. A little shame slowly crept over my face. What are you thinking, Khrystal? Why didn't I assume he wouldn't do that if it wasn't usual to see it in him? Of course, Khrystal. He despises rumors, jezz! I cleared my throat and picked up the menu card in front of me. I quickly looked at him because I could feel him staring at me. “P-pasta. Pasta is enough for me. I guess,” I stammered, "Pasta A La Norma."

The voice asked gently. “Get me two plate of …….” “What will you like to eat?” He asked instantly staring at me. “Anything,” I muttered. “Anything?? Say something please,” He ordered. “Fine, if I may get pasta, it’s okay,” I said. ‘Alright then,” He said and nodded. “Get me two plates of Pasta,” He said turning towards the device again “Okay then, it will get to you in a jiffy,” The voice said and he pressed the button again.

He helped me settle onto the raffia seat, my back resting against the bedding, a raffia doona pulled over both of us. "We have creamy pasta, steaks, seafood salad, chicken parmigiana, barramundi, dessert, sweet wine, fruits…" "Okay, stop." I held up a hand, laughing. "Are you trying to make me fat?" He leaned over and kissed me lightly on the lips, my lipstick leaving a faint stain on his mouth. I reached up with my fingertips and wiped it away slowly. "Either way," he said, "you'd still look gorgeous." I looked away fast, heat climbing up my neck, my cheeks flushing pink. Elvis has a way with words that makes me feel like the only woman on earth.

The phone rang a few times before a cold, husky voice answered with a terse, “What?” As I looked down at my toes, I couldn’t help but fidget them together nervously. With a sweet tone, I made my request known. “I’m feeling quite hungry and craving some delicious tomato spaghetti from Pasta House. Would it be too much to ask if you could pick some up for me later when you’re on your way here?” As I waited on the other end of the line, all I could hear was the sound of someone breathing. After half a minute, the person finally spoke up. “Me…? Buy you tomato spaghetti?”