Actually, itisthat bad. You could ask me, just like Captain Holt did to Jake Peralta, to point out the difference between a landing in the Philippines and my room, and let me tell you, I could not tell you the difference.
“I once found pizza with mold under a clean sweater.” He recalls, and I purse my lips.Yep, that tracks.
We go outside, and the sky is at that stage where it’s not dark blue, but it’s not orange anymore. It’s a soft blue with stars trying to appear.
“It’s so beautiful,” I say, looking at the sky.
“Yes, you are.” He says, unbothered, and I move my head towards him wide-eyed. His eyes are with that look that I’m not sure if I like. It triggers my fight or flight response. Makes me wanna either hit him or k-Hold hands with him.
“You mean the sky, right?”
I know it’s a stupid question, and he was very clear about what he said, but maybe, just maybe, I heard it wrong?
“Right...” He looks away, grinning, and drags the word.
He’s probably just used to this careless, smooth talking. With so many girls and so many flings, you have to say something like that to at least entertain them for an hour.
“Whatever. Come here.” I say. His hair is filled with flour. “Lower your head, please.”
He puts his hands in surrender and moves his head down. I run my fingers through his messy hair, trying to take all of it, and I must admit, I would be lying if I told you that running my fingers through his perfect hair isn’t pleasing.
“You’re done. Now do me.”
He raises an eyebrow, and I hit his arm.
“God,West, not like that!” He laughs, annoying me. “Just clean my hair…”
I don’t need to lower my head because, well, I’m literally a head shorter than him. Surprisingly, my hair is much easier to clean than his.
We go inside and take off our aprons, leaving them in the pantry.
Now would be a good time for a movie.
I walk to the living room to find all of the kids already there.
“What do you people want to watch?”
“We’re hungry, and no, Paige, we’re not watching Tangledagain.” Blake says.
“Why would we, when Madelaine can just stare at me instead of Flynn Rider?” West smugly says, and I push him.
“Shut up.”
“Hello? Are you feeding us or what?” Brandon catches our attention.
“Right. I’ll go make some scrambled eggs or something…”
“Isn’t that too sophisticated for you?” Lindsey grins.
“You all are being too mean, as if I don’t control whether you eat or not.”
They shut up at this, and I mumble to myself.
“Right scrambled eggs…” I place my hands together, imagining the steps in my head when Jake sighs.
“For fuck’s sake, Brown, just follow me, and no, I didn’t swear, and you can’t swear either.” He points at the twins, ready to argue for sure.
I fake enthusiasm. I actually don’t have a clue if he cooks well or not. But one thing I do know. Hedefinitelycooks better than me. We wouldn’t want the kids to be food-poisoned.
