“What if you don’t like what I order?” She said softly.
“Then you’ll learn something about me.” He said and quietly disappeared into the bathroom.
After she placed the order she sat on his couch uncomfortably. She replayed his words over and over as she contemplated what to order. Did he really think she didn’t know anything about him? She knew a bunch of things about him, yet she couldn’t single out one thing that wasn’t generic, one thing, that, everyone didn’t know. She couldn’t tell you what he liked on his pizza or how he liked his steak. She didn’t know how he took his coffee or what type of cologne he used. Things that she knew seven years ago about him had been erased from her memory. All she knew now was physical things. How sad was that? The first man she ever loved that she wasn’t related to, she knew nothing about. It was his fault though, she argued with herself. If he hadn’t left, maybe she would’ve had the chance to learn those things. If he could keep his shit in his pants, maybe she would’ve had the chance to learn those things when she went to Seattle.
She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear when he had walked out of his bedroom. It wasn’t until he sat next to her and offered her a beer that she had noticed him. She turned around and ignored the beer he offered her and stared at him.
“Name one thing you know about me.” She challenged and then amended her challenge. “And I don’t mean the Sam you knew seven years ago, I mean the woman sitting beside you now.” She took the beer he held for her and repositioned herself, so that she was leaning against the arm of the sofa, one leg tucked under her ass. She took a swig of the beer and arched one of her eyebrows.
Nick leaned against the cushions of the sofa and spread his arm out along the back of it. He glanced at her as he drank his beer. “Fine, I know you don’t own a coffee pot.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t count. Anyone who has ever been to my apartment knows I don’t have a coffee pot. Now, if you knew why, I didn’t own a coffee pot than, that might’ve counted.”
“Alright, so tell me. Why don’t you own a coffee pot?” He asked sincerely.
She eyed him skeptically. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to make fun of me.”
“Would I do that?” He laughed when she shot him a look and then held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, Okay, I promise not to make fun of you.”
She bit her lip before confessing. “I can’t make a decent pot of coffee to save my life. I’ll either give you sludge or water with grinds.”
Nick bit the inside of his cheek not to indulge in the smile that threatened his lips. “You do know they make a single serve coffee pot now right? You don’t have to measure anything, just stick a pod in and hit a button.”
“Nick!” She warned. “You promised not to make fun.”
“I’m not making fun of you I’m educating you.”
“Yeah, if that helps you sleep at night.” She took another sip of beer to hide her smile that still broke through to her eyes.
Nick let out a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding. She looked so comfortable and at ease with him at that moment, he couldn’t remember the last time he saw her that way with him. He lifted his hand from the back of the sofa and tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail, behind her ear. She brought the bottle down from her lips and watched his hand out of the corner of her eye before their eyes meet.
Her tongue moistened her lips in anticipation, she was sure he was going to kiss her. She was so sure he was going to kiss her, she even closed her eyes and then there was a loud knock on the door. She quickly opened her eyes and averted her gaze to the door. Nick sighed and leaned forward, placing his beer on the coffee table. He stood up and before he padded barefoot to answer the door, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Neither of them said a word as he dealt with the delivery man.
Sam walked into the kitchen, and opened his bare cabinets in search for plates and utensils. She found a stack of paper plates and grabbed them.
“Nick do you have forks?” She called out to him, not realizing he was behind her.
“Of course I have forks.” He said and reached around her to open a drawer and nodded towards the utensils that sat in an organized tray. “But you ordered Chinese. It comes with chopsticks.”
She grabbed two forks and turned around. “I don’t know how to use chopsticks.” She said and gave him a look that dared him to crack one joke.
“Did you ever ask anyone to teach you?” He asked softly. Something told him she had a difficult time asking for help.