“Is that what you want or what your parents want?”
Cameron shrugs, looking uncomfortable, and I get the impression that this topic is better left untouched. The mood has sombred slightly and I don’t like it. I want the relaxed, fun Cameron back. I stand up and join Cameron in front of the stove where he’s started mixing ingredients.
“Taste this,” he says, lifting a wooden spoon to my mouth. His eyes follow my mouth as it wraps around the tip of the spoon.
“Oh wow,” I say. “That’s delicious. What is it?”
I lick my lips and Cameron’s eyes darken. “Caramelized onion and honey sauce.”
He goes back to mixing ingredients and then takes out four foil packages from the oven. I watch him open them, my mouth watering when the divine scent floats around us. Nestled inside each foil packet is a grilled chicken breast, stuffed with feta cheese and spinach. My stomach growls and Cameron and I both laugh.
“Take a seat,” he instructs, coming around the island. He places a chicken breast on my plate, drizzling some of the caramelized onion and honey sauce over it, and then dishes up a mushroom and sweet pepper risotto. Once he’s placed food on his own plate, he takes out a fresh garden salad from the fridge.
“This looks amazing, Cam,” I praise. I see a faint color in his cheeks and stifle a giggle. He’s blushing?
“Thank you,” he mumbles. “I’ve never cooked dinner for anyone but my mom.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”
“Really. Why does that surprise you?”
Shrugging sheepishly, I reply, “I guess I thought that this was regular thing, that you did this on all of your ‘dates’”.
Now it’s Cameron who looks sheepish. “No, you’re the first.”
“Oh.” I take a sip of my sparkling wine hoping it will calm the nerves dancing around in my belly. So far, nothing has been what I expected and I’m not sure how I feel about all of it. It suddenly feels like more than just another date.
Cameron cuts into his chicken breast and I follow his cue. When the tender meat hits my taste buds, the mixture of it all leaves an explosion of flavors on my taste buds. “Oh my God,” I moan. “This is really amazing, Cam. Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“I started when I was fifteen, and kind of taught myself. My mom had to fight to get me out of the kitchen.”
“You must’ve been really stubborn as a kid,” I joke. “I bet you drove your parents crazy half the time.”
“I have an older sister who set the precedent when we were kids, I just followed in her lead.”
“You have an older sister?”
“Yes,” he replies. “Candice. I was a bit of an accident so Candice and I are about eight years apart. She has a two year old, Jordan, and she and her husband, Brett, are expecting their second baby soon. I don’t know who’s more excited though, Candice or my mom, because it’s a girl.”
“And your dad? Is he excited?” I ask.
Cameron’s face darkens and his excitement dwindles. “No,” I say softly. “He’s not really…around.”
Putting my hand over his, I squeeze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - “
“Don’t worry about it,” he cuts me off. We look down at where my hand touches his and for a second I wonder if he can feel the chemistry, pulsating around us like a live wire. His eyes meet mine and they darken. He’s definitely feeling it. He holds my hand and we continue to eat, chatting animatedly about mundane things yet never feeling bored. I was worried that it would feel awkward, having become close friends over the last few weeks and then exploring the possibility of there being ‘more’ between us. But it’s not. In fact, it’s easy, and comfortable, and what scares me even more is that it feels right, natural.
“How was it?” Cameron asks anxiously.
Giggling, I retort, “My moaning between bites wasn’t enough of a giveaway?”
“No, that was just sexy as hell and a very big distraction.”
I stand to meet Cameron at the sink where he rinses off our dirty dishes and stop next to him. “Well,” I say, stretching onto my toes. “It was the most amazing food I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting and knowing that you went to so much effort to make our first date so special made it even better.” I kiss him on the cheek and allow my lips to linger as I murmur a “thank you” against his skin. He drops the dishes, making a loud clang, but neither of us notices. He faces me, stunning me with his beautiful face adorning those dimples. “You’re welcome,” he replies, his voice husky. After a minute of silence goes by, he speaks. “Hayley?”
“Hmmm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
My heart stutters. I never imagined Cameron asking for a kiss, I thought he would just take it. Something about him asking me endears him to me, softening that bad boy exterior.
I nod and Cameron wraps an arm around my waist, not worried about the soapy water dripping from his hands. It could be muddy water for all I care. Nothing will stop this kiss from happening.
He steps into me, our lips touching lightly before his mouth consumes mine. His lips are gentle at first, but when my tongue darts out to meet his it sparks a hunger, not only in Cameron but in me too. Our tongues dance and Cameron’s grip tightens. My hands hold onto his biceps for support because my knees feel weak and it’s like I’m floating on air. I know it’s not normal for two people to share a kiss like this on their first date but if this were to become more then I’ll have to both acknowledge and accept that nothing about us would be normal. I’m a nineteen-year-old mother to a two year old and Cameron is the school playboy. We’ve already broken several rules according to society, why not obliterate one more.
We break apart and Cameron gives me one last chaste peck before resting his forehead on mine. “I didn’t bring you here for that,” he says quietly. “But I’m glad it happened.”
I smile. “I know, and I’m pretty sure I wanted it as badly as you did.”
“Dessert?” he asks. His eyes are bright and I can’t help but wonder if I’m seeing into his soul.
“I thought that was it?” I tease. I purse my lips. “That’s going to be a tough act to follow.”
“Even with homemade peppermint crisp mousse and chocolate soufflé?”
Before I can reply, my phone goes off, effectively killing our little moment. “You answer that,” Cameron says, kissing my neck. “And I’ll finish cleaning up and get dessert ready.”
I slip out of his grasp and walk briskly to where my purse is. When I remove my phone from my purse, my grandmother’s number is flashing on the screen. I frown, a feeling of panic sinking into my belly. She would only phone me if something were wrong. I don’t like this.
“Hello?”
My grandmother’s words fly out of her mouth rapidly, so fast I almost don’t catch everything she’s saying. “OhHayleyI’mTakingAriToTheHospital - ”
I cut her off. “Wait, Gama, slow down,” I say. “I can’t hear what you’re saying.”
Her inhalation on the other end is sharp, and wobbly, like it’s filled with tears. “I’ve taken Ari to the hospital,” she says, her voice cracking. “You need to come.”