“Can you start the electric mixer?” Luca asked me.
I nodded and flicked on the switch, the mixer stirring up the cake batter.
“What now?” I ask.
Luca shrugs. “We wait three minutes for it to be mixed well.”
I sign and lean back on the edge of the counter. I decided to make different conversation that wasn’t about baking while we wait.
“So, how far along are you?” I glance down at his bump.
He smiles. “I’ll be 7 months in five days.”
I give a shocked expression. “You’re that far along already?”
Luca chuckles. “I know right? It’s crazy how fast time passes.”
“No it’s just, when I first met you, you did not look six months along.” I explain.
Im being completely honest with him here. He genuinely did not look that far along when I met him.
“It’s because I’m small. And I like to wear loose clothes.” He shrugs.
“Loose clothes are more comfortable. You can’t argue with me on this.” I agree.
Luca gives a breath of a laugh, and lifts his head up to see the batter. “You can turn off the mixer now.” He points out.
I nod and flip the switch off, and unlock the top. I unscrew the bowl out of the mixer while Luca brings over a few cake pans.
“Can I ask you a question?” I look over at Luca, but he doesn’t meet my gaze back to him due to scraping out the batter carefully with a spatula.
“Sure. Can’t promise an answer though.” I look back down to move the bowl over another circle pan.
“You’ve been ignoring Moretti for three days now?” He asks with a careful voice.
I hum back in affirmation.
“I’ve never seen him more, ah, what’s the word? Smitten, with someone. What are you doing to change him?” He finishes scraping out the last of the batter into the pan.
“I’m changing him?” I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.
Luca nods. “He’s different. A good different.”
He turns to put the pans into the oven to bake. I set down the bowl onto the counter and thoughts race through my head.
What does Luca mean by different? Surely I’m not changing him in any way.
No.
That’s not possible.
Vessel snorts. ‘You’re his mate, dipshit.’
I scrunch up my nose and block him out.
“I think you need to talk to him.” Luca suggests.
I roll my eyes and begin putting dishes in the sink. “Until he talks to me about who this Elizabeth chick is, I’m not talking to him.”
Luca gasps and drops a plate, it shattering when it hits the floor.
I turn around quickly to face him, and his face was drained of color.
“What?” I ask suspiciously.
“Elizabeth?” Luca tries for hide a tremor in his voice.
“You know her?” I lower my voice just in case any unwanted ears come nearby the kitchen.
“I’ve heard of her. Trust me, if that’s what you’re upset with Moretti about, let him come to you about it.” He quickly looks around for a broom.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, concerned.
Our conversation was cut short when the kitchen door opened and Malik walked in.
“What happened in here?” He looks at Luca and I, then the shattered glass.
“I dropped a plate. It’s no big deal.” Luca begins to sweep.
Malik quickly speed walks over to him and takes the broom. “Don’t move. I don’t want you to cut your swollen feet.” And he begins sweeping.
“Also, Liam, there’s someone on the phone for you in Moretti’s office.” Malik looks at me briefly before carefully sweeping the glass around Lucas feet.
“Okay?” I respond quietly.
Who would be calling me?
I walk out of the kitchen and make my way towards Moretti’s office.
I shut the door behind me and pick up the phone, taking it off mute.
“Hello?” I press it to my ear.
“Liam?”
You’ve got to be fucking me.
“Easton, why the hell are you calling me?” I say through gritted teeth.
“I just wanted to let you know that me and Kyle are engaged!” He chirps happily.
I take a deep breath through my nose, and sit down in the nearest chair.
“Okay?” I try not to growl.
“So when are you coming back? We really want you to attend the ceremony.” Easton sounds almost genuine.
“If you guys are getting married, that just makes me want to come back less.” I snap.
My knuckles go white from clenching the arm of the chair to hard.
“Oh. Well, I hope you can still keep an open mind. It’s in two months.” He still continues happily, seemingly unaware of my harsh tone to him.
“I don’t care when your wedding is. Don’t call me. Ever.” I hear him begin to speak again but I hang up.
Honestly, this shouldn’t bother me as much as it does. I have a mate.
One that doesn’t trust me.
But still a mate, nonetheless.
So why do I still care for an engaged asshole?
I storm out of Moretti’s office and begin to wander the hallways, looking for him.
After a minute or so, I hear his cello being played.
I go to the slightly propped open door, and peer in. Moretti is playing a soft harmony, his eyes closed.
I go into the room, closing the door behind me.
He opens his eyes, and concern is seen in them when he spots me.
I have been doing my best to avoid him since our conversation. So this was different.
I approach him, and he stops playing whatever classical song he’s playing.
I take the cello neck away from his hands, and set it down carefully. I then reach for the bow, but he keeps out of reach.
“What?” Is all he asks, but I give him a look that clearly yells ‘shut up and give me the damn stick.’
He reluctantly hands me the bow, and I set it down on a safe platform.
I turn back to Moretti, and he’s just watching me, intensely and curiously.
“Are you alright?” He asks carefully as I begin to approach him again.
I don’t nod my head yes or shake it no.
Instead I straddle myself on his lap and attach my lips to his.
He’s taken aback by my sudden action for a split moment, before quickly gaining control of the very heated kiss.
His hands fall onto my waist, pulling my body closer into his. I wrap my arms around his neck, one of my hands finding their way to his thick brown hair.
It may seem like I am acting on impulsive and angry emotions, but I know exactly what I’m doing.
I need some sort of confirmation. A confirmation of my feelings towards him.
Deep down, I always knew what they were. Now it’s just the time to acknowledge it.
And my feelings were clearly screaming that I liked Moretti.
I liked him a lot.
Possibly, maybe, even more then just ‘like’.
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