Page 15 of Breaking Matt
"Do you want to go out or would you like me to make something?" he offered.
"You cook?" I asked, and he nodded.
I didn't think I had ever dated a guy who had offered to make me a meal. They usually took me out. It made his suggestion all that more special. I didn't feel like going out but I didn't have any food. "I haven't got anything. I've been meaning to do some grocery shopping."
"I can go and get some stuff. I'll be back in about half an hour," he offered.
"Okay," I said.
He pressed a quick kiss to my mouth, taking me by surprise, before he left. I stood there feeling fazed for a while before I decided to go and put some jeans and a less comfy shirt.
For the first time I felt nervous, and a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach kept me anxious until he came back. He walked in with two full grocery bags.
"I thought you were just getting enough for lunch, not the whole week," I said, peering into the bags. There was milk and bread among other things.
"I wanted to make sure you had at least the basics." He began to unpack the bags and I leaned against the counter as he packed the stuff away.
It was like he was completely at home. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.
"What are you going to make?" I asked, allowing him to take over. It wasn't something I did often but I was tired and hungry.
"I can make steak or pasta," he said, giving me the choice.
"Pasta," I picked. Steak would be too much on my delicate stomach.
"Then pasta it is."
I sat down on the counter and watched as he got the ingredients and began to make our food.
"Where did you learn to cook?"
"At home. My mom was big on the equality thing. Whatever she taught my sisters, she taught me."
I liked his mother already. I had always wanted a sibling, despite my friends assuring me that having one was a pain in the butt and nothing to be envious of.
"How many sisters do you have?"
"Two younger ones."
So he was the older brother? Was that what had made him want to protect me from Ryan or was it just because he liked me? It was probably a bit of both. Not that it really mattered.
"Any brothers?"
"Nope."
We talked while he cooked. He was nineteen, a year older than me. He came from a traditional family, with two younger siblings and parents who had just celebrated their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. His mother worked as a teacher and his father was a lawyer.
"So what made you decide to study business management?" I asked. He was in the same subjects as I was.
"It seemed to be the most versatile thing for me. I couldn't quite decide what I wanted to do." He mixed the sauce and pasta together. "It's done."
It smelled so good that my stomach grumbled, reminding me how hungry I was. He helped me off the counter and to my feet.
We dished up and sat down on the sofa.
"Wow, this is amazing," I said after trying the first mouthful.
He shrugged. "I like cooking. I find it relaxing."
