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Bake Me Crazy

Page 8

by Skylar Dawn

"I go out sometimes."

  "I've never seen you go out."

  He thought for a second, frowning.

  "I stay here and talk to you. Doesn't it count?"

  I giggled, looking back at him.

  "But that's not going out."

  He stood up and stared at me with a sarcastic smile.

  "Do you want to go out? Then let's do it. Where do you want to go?"

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I don't want to go out. I want to know what you're up to."

  He sat back and picked up a little box, snapping a fried dumpling.

  "I'm not into going out. I don't have the patience my friends have to jump from bar to bar. I prefer to jump channels." He gestured to the TV and completed it. "When I get tired of watching, I turn it off and go to sleep."

  I narrowed my eyes, trying to decipher his expression, but I couldn't.

  "And isn't that a little lonely?"

  "No. The kitchen's crowded, I see a lot of people and I move around all day. I like to be quiet, you know? And to be able to have a normal conversation with one person."

  I sighed and put my empty box back on the table, patting Ham before getting anything else filled with soy sauce to eat.

  "I'm not criticizing you, I'm the queen of staying at home. I'm only curious."

  Noah smiled, showing me his dimples.

  "I like to share my attention with who's worth it, that's all. Like Ham.”

  He put his box on the table and placed the little pig on his lap. The bastard circled twice and laid on Noah's legs, showing his belly and asking for a cud. Noah found it very amusing.

  "Your pig acts like a dog."

  I laughed.

  "You know, I've thought about that. He has a habit of sniffing his pillow and hiding his face. But he's so cute."

  He patted the little pig and went back to eating. Ham kept huddled in Noah's lap without moving.

  "One day we'll have to watch Star Wars for him to know where he came from."

  "Agreed," I smiled.

  We ended up finishing the Chinese banquet and watching TV, until Noah suggested we turned off the lights in the living room and stretched out on the floor to digest everything. Ham settled between the two of us, completely leaning against Noah's waist and was already snoring.

  After the second old movie I was also getting sleepy, so I thought I'd better get home. Noah was napping, breathing serene and his expression was relaxed. He was handsome. His features were strong, but with a hint of gentleness. He seemed to smile in his sleep, then I stroked his hair with my fingertips.

  "Good night," I whispered.

  He opened his eyes a little bit. I could hardly see it.

  "There's a yellow box for you in the refrigerator on the left, second shelf." He murmured in such a low voice that I had to get my face closer to be able to hear.

  "What is it?"

  He whispered between his lips, close to my ear.

  "It's cheesecake."

  "Another one?" I smiled with tenderness. "You'll end up getting me fat with so much cheesecake."

  He smiled and closed his eyes again.

  "I'm still trying to figure out your favorite."

  I took Ham on my lap and the little piggy didn't even blink. He kept snoring like he'd never come out of the warmth of Noah's cushions or waistline. I also made a point of getting the new cheesecake in the refrigerator, after all, I still had my budget reduced.

  I took one last look at Noah sprawled on the floor, half asleep, half awake. He was being a good friend all this time, that I was sure of. I liked to spend my time with him, even if he teased me more than I found tolerable. And now I could see what my friends were talking about, especially about his looks. Definitely he was very handsome, I don't know how I hadn't seen this before. Not that I cared about that right now, or ever, of course not. I only felt comfortable enough to notice him closely, that's all.

  CHAPTER seven

  Hot And Naked

  My training was going well. After a few weeks Mrs. Dunn was already choreographing me for a supposed strip performance and guess what?! I was actually learning. Of course this was in gym clothes, and I was sure that once I had to open a miserable button, things would change.

  That night she had invited the girls to watch and comment on the dance routine. But even the ladies got tired on the fourth time I had to do it again. It was the ninth time that I was repeating the same sequence of jeté, fondu ... or was it frappe? Certainly nothing to eat, despite the names. I spotted Noah passing by the window to take out the trash, and in less than a minute, our session got completely weird.

  Mrs. Dunn ran to the window and whispered something to him, then picked up a chair in the corner of the room and placed it in front of where the girls' chairs were, now empty. Immediately she ran back and unlocked the door. That was when I realized she invited him to watch.

  His face showed up at the door.

  "Come in, dear," said Mrs. Dunn, "Sit here on that chair."

  Noah stared at me for a moment and then threw a confused look at Mrs. Dunn.

  "Do you need anything?"

  She signaled him to come in.

  "Come on in, don't be shy."

  Noah was puzzled, I was trying to disappear into a plié and bury myself under the floorboards. He sat on the chair completely astonished and I signaled to Mrs. Dunn to come to where I was.

  "What are you doing!" I whispered in her ear.

  Mrs. Dunn put her arm around my shoulders and turned our backs to Noah.

  "You need to lose your shyness. Who do you think will see this type of performance?"

  I stared at her startled.

  "Everyone," I cried. "Nowadays everybody sees everything!"

  Mrs. Dunn giggled.

  "Young lads are the majority, Noah is a young lad.”

  "But he's my neighbor!"

  "Even better."

  She left me in the middle of the room and walked very sure of herself to the speakers. Then she turned to Noah.

  "Noah, dear, I need you to evaluate my student's dance routine. Is it ok?"

  His mouth fell open.

  "I-I-can." He scratched his head. "But I don't know a thing about dancing."

  "You don't have to. We want to know if you like it."

  Mrs. Dunn turned to me like a general.

  "Emma, put on your heels. On your marks."

  I hesitated, but I ended up obeying. If only I could conjure up stomachache and run out of there. And I swear the idea crossed my mind from the moment I put my heels on to the moment I got to my mark, which, by the way, was too close to Noah. Less than three steps.

  "I don't want you narrating your dace moves! I want you to focus!"

  Of course I could narrate everything inside my head and Mrs. Dunn would never know, actually I was planning to do it in an attempt to forget that Noah was there. I took the initial pose and when I heard the first three familiar chords, I was forced to start. Turn then arrive... I don't wan't to. Kick. Bend over, get down. I'm mad. Pause. Strike a pose. It was working! I decided to keep narrating everything my own way. Touch my foot. The floor wants me... Shake the hula hoop and let go. Step, step and kick. I turned, I kicked. Tiny step, tiny step, forward I go. Hand in my ass and let go. Big step and kick. And then I heard a loud noise and witnessed Noah's chair falling backwards with him on it. In a miscalculated maneuver I kicked his chin with all the strength I had in my legs. I froze in place. Mrs. Dunn ran to help him.

  "Honey, are you okay?"

  He was lying on the floor, rubbing his jaw. Only then I ran and knelt beside him.

  "Sorry! Are you okay?"

  "Mrs. Dunn," he looked at her with serious eyes. "You should teach martial arts."

  Mrs. Dunn giggled and tapped on his shoulder.

  "Sorry Dear! She was doing everything right a moment ago."

  "I miscalculated! I'm so sorry!"

  Noah laughed, still holding his chin.

  "This dance of yours is quite dangerous
."

  I took his hand from his chin to examine the damage, it was turning purple.

  "You need ice."

  We both helped him up.

  "Can you walk, dear?"

  "I guess so, I'm just a little dizzy."

  I put my arm around his waist, trying to support his weight. But he was too heavy for me and we both hit the ground in a loud thud. At least this time I cushioned the fall, because the poor guy didn't deserve another hit. I rolled him to the side and sat down, putting his head on my lap.

  "A thousand apologies Noah, I swear it was unintentional."

  "I'm going to get you something cold. Don't let him sleep, Emma."

  "Understood." I saluted Mrs. Dunn.

  "Are you sure you weren't trying to kill me?" Noah shot me a pained look and I felt guilt-sick.

  "I swear! I wasn't going to hit you! I knew I wasn't a fit for such activities, but as always I go crazy and now you're all bruised!" I cried.

  "I'm fine, I'm only dizzy." He smiled.

  "Stop smiling! It's going leave a scar!"

  He made a funny face.

  "What kind of logic is that Emma," he laughed. "There's no cut, it was a roundhouse kick."

  "Only one."

  "I'm gonna live."

  I let a breath out in exasperation.

  "But will you live without the consequences of the accident? I can't guarantee it, it's turning black now!"

  Mrs. Dunn walked in with a bag of frozen peas and put it on his chin.

  "Now you hold the bag for him Emma, the poor thing needs to recover."

  I nodded. It was my fault, I had to take care of him.

  "I'm fine," he closed his eyes. "I'm serious."

  "See?” I turned to Mrs. Dunn. "I don't have the slightest knack for this."

  Noah smiled and opened his eyes, staring at me.

  "I thought you were doing great."

  Mrs. Dunn clapped her hands in satisfaction.

  "See dear?!"

  "Until you tried to kill me."

  "Mrs. Dunn's choreography is very expressive." I relaxed, after all he seemed to be fine, but just in case, I left the bag of frozen peas on his chin a little longer and I followed him until I was sure he wasn't going to sleep and have a concussion.

  #

  "It's so hot in here," I walked into Noah's apartment and felt a hot breath on my face. The balcony door was wide open and yet there was no wind coming in. Only the sun went through, transforming the whole environment into a greenhouse. Noah was wearing an apron behind the kitchen counter, and like usual, he was shirtless, his chin still yellow. It was taking too long for evidence of my kick to disappear.

  "My air conditioner's gone," he said without taking his eye off the mix he was making. "They'll fix it tomorrow."

  "You're not cooking naked, are you?" I teased. "It's not hygienic and no one deserves to see such a scene in the middle of the afternoon."

  "Of course not," he turned around and shook his ass. "I'm wearing my underwear," he laughed.

  "Jeez Noah," I whined, "at least put on your pants."

  "Look, if you're so disgusted, you don't have to eat," he smirked. "You don't even like lemon cheesecake, do you?"

  "Damn it," I sighed, "to the hell with bacteria!" I had a laugh and thought it was best to occupy the stool by the countertop. "Can I taste the cream?"

  “No.”

  "Stop being annoying," I cried, "let me sample it."

  "No way," he walked away two steps, "it's not hygienic to put your finger in the bowl," he laughed.

  "Oh really," I patted him lightly on the shoulder, "you are eighty percent naked and I can't even run a little finger on your cream?"

  “No.”

  “Boring,” I sighed, resting my chin on my hands.

  He took a spoon in the first drawer, scraped a little bit of the cream from the edge of the bowl and waved an spoon airplane in my direction, "open your mouth." When I was about to have it, he lifted up the spoon and shoved it in his mouth.

  "Needs more lemon," he added. "But it's good. And shut your mouth, you'll end up swallowing a mosquito."

  I was mad! I jumped out of the stool, grabbed the bowl of cream, and ran to the living room. Noah took off his apron and chased me to my hiding place behind the couch.

  "Give me the cream!"

  "No way," I laughed, "only after I try it."

  He came towards me and I circled the couch to the other side. I wasn't going to let him get me so easily after that unnecessary provocation. If there's one thing that my experience as a younger sister made me an expert, it was running around the couch, I could beat him by fatigue running in circles.

  "Emma," he roared, "give me the bowl."

  "Not a chance!"

  What I didn't expect was that he would jump over the couch. In a fraction of a second he held me by my waist and I lost my balance. I was going to crash on the floor, bowl included, but he took it from my hands and held me tightly with his other arm.

  "Without falling," he smiled. "And without spilling the cream."

  Our faces were so close, I felt his warm breath.

  "Sorry," I blushed, "I only wanted to try."

  His blue eyes were fixed on mine, and he didn’t say a word for a few seconds. Then he took a deep breath, "All right," he loosened his grip on my waist, "let's get you a spoon."

  We went back to the kitchen counter and I took my spot on the stool. Noah handed me another spoon and I scraped a tantalizing amount of lemon cream.

  "Hey," he protested, "don't overdo it!"

  "It is necessary," I raised an eyebrow, "you teased me. And I gotta go, I'm taking a break from vlogs."

  "You and your videos," he shook his head amused. "Don't you want to film here? While you're filming I finish the cheesecake, put it in fridge and then we could order pizza."

  It wasn't a bad idea to change scenery, even if it was a small difference, so I agreed.

  "I'll be right back," I walked to the door and waved to him. "I'll go get my stuff."

  I took my camera, my laptop and decided to check myself on the mirror before going back. Noah's apartment was really hot, because my palms were sweaty and I had my face all flushed, it looked like I'd climbed two flights of stairs running.

  I plugged the paraphernalia on the coffee table in his living room with my back to the kitchen.

  "You're going to appear in the background, the light is bad on the other side. Is it ok?"

  "No, I'm wearing my pants," he teased.

  Noah had a wide smile that tightened the corner of his eyes in such a charming way. I don't know how I hadn't found it adorable before, after all, we were always laughing. His physique was not bad either. He was not an athlete, but for someone who jogs for a couple minutes in the morning, he had his muscles defined. ‘All the right junk on all the right places’. There in the kitchen, in his apron, shirtless, his honey-colored hair back, he was super photogenic. So I had a great idea, I could film him.

  "Hey," I said in excitement, "can I film you? I mean, I'll introduce you, and I'll show you what you're doing. "

  "Excuse me?!" He wrinkled his nose.

  “"Yeah, you explain the recipe a little bit. What about that?"

  "I don't know Emma," he shook his head. "I'm not a real chef or anything."

  "Oh, come on, it's going to be fun. Besides, everything you cook is delicious."

  "I don't know if that's a good idea," he continued stirring the cream.

  "Please," I begged, "I always talk about you. It's time to show your face."

  "Fine," he let out a reluctant sigh, "but just this once."

  I ran to the table, grabbed the camera and started recording. He was one hundred percent charismatic. He was like that when he was in the kitchen. The resourcefulness in which he explained the recipe, put ingredients and dared to crack a joke or two made me want to watch him non-stop. He definitely had a knack for this TV show thing. If he wanted to, he could invest in a career like that too.

  �
��Are we finished?” He put both hands on the countertop, looking tired.

  “Thank you!” I kissed his cheek.

  “This is exhausting,” he breathed in relief. “How do you handle it?”

  “I like to talk,” I laughed. “A lot. For the record.”

  “So, pizza? You pay.”

  I smirked and stuck my tongue out.

  "Fine. Keep it as a paycheck."

  #

  My Sunday started with my phone buzzing so hard that it almost fell off the bedside table. I ran my fingers through the furniture, searching for the device without turning my neck, it was too early to get out of bed. Ham agreed, snoring in a loud tone with all four paws up, not bothered by any noise. One of the first messages was from Mia.

  So THIS is your neighbor. Hum…

  I answered with one hand, not even bothering to move the other arm that was under the pillow.

  So now you watch my vlogs? That’s news.

  She answered me with one of those emojis rolling its eyes, and I could imagine her doing it easily. I witnessed such disdain for many years. But the other messages weren't Mia's, they were comments on Noah's video. I had never received so many. Apparently the internet had liked him.

  I don't have one of those in my kitchen!

  What nonsense. I was in his kitchen, not the other way around.

  Bake my cake!

  Absurd. She didn't pay attention to the recipe. It was cheesecake!

  Looks delicious! I'm not so sure about the cheesecake though.

  It was delicious! The Cheesecake! The Cheesecake!

  Obviously I didn't answer. And there were others not worth mentioning. His success was global, with both men and women. I found it a bit annoying, after all, he wasn't something to eat, but I already knew that the internet was like that. On the other side of the screen everyone has the courage to say what they want and what they don't want. And I didn't need to show him the most aggressive ones, I could stick to the cutest ones and those who were asking about orders. Actually, there were a lot of people asking about his treats.

  I confess I felt a sting of jealousy of the attention he had. Not because of him, but because I was there almost every day and no one was asking me to cook anything at their homes, or bake any cakes. Metaphorically speaking, of course. We have established that I don't cook and I didn't have the slightest desire to wash flour out of my hair again.

 

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