Catching Feelings [bwwm]

Chapter 9- The Great Date

"James, I'm here!" I shouted as I entered the large house.

"Why must you shout?" He emerged from the kitchen with a small smile on his face.

He was wearing an old, tight grey-blue shirt that clung to his upper body and dark blue jeans that hung low on his waist.

Well, damn.

"Good morning, Mr. Stiller," I replied jokingly with a large, goofy smile.

He cringed, "Can you not call me that? I'm not your boss or my father."

Can I call you daddy instead?

Woah, where the fuck did that come from.

I cleared my throat, "Yeah, you got it."

"Great," He said enthusiastically, clapping his hands together, "Follow me."

Still shocked by my thought, I followed behind him silently. When I entered the kitchen, James stood smiling behind the large counter that had food spread all over it.

I walked up to it and picked up the carton of eggs. "What is all this?"

"We're gonna bake cupcakes."

I arched my eyebrow. "Why?"

"Josie has something at school tomorrow, and instead of buying them, I thought it'd be fun if we made them ourselves."

Looking around, I noticed a crucial component missing. "Well then, where's little J?"

"She's at her friend's house for a playdate."

Playdate? The girls almost 14!

"You mean she's hanging out at her friend's house, right?"

"Yeah, that's what I meant."

I ran my tongue over my teeth. "So it's just you and I? You expect me - the girl who can barely make a bowl of cereal - and you - the man who says his teenage daughter is having a 'playdate' - to bake cupcakes and not burn the house down?"

He nodded. "How hard could it be?"

~*~

"Alright, how much sugar do we need?"

I stepped over the cracked eggs on the floor over to the computer that had the recipe on it.

Before cracking the eggs in the bowl, James decided it would be cool for him to juggle three of them, and in the process of his fail, dropped all three. The funniest part wasn't even his attempt, but the face he made when he realized he didn't have a secret talent of being able to juggle.

I glanced down at the computer. "Um, it says we need two and a half cups."

Grabbing the bag of sugar, and being really careful not to step on the eggs, I made my way back to James who was standing over the large bowl that contained a different set of eggs, flour, baking soda, and all that other good shit.

"You're an only child, right?" James asked as he poured the sugar into the measuring cup.

"Yeah, I am," I nodded. "How come you don't have an Aussie accent?"

"I left Australia when I was super young, so mine isn't as defined as Jonathan's," He explained, "But you can hear it on certain words I say."

"Yeah, I guess," I smiled.

After dumping the sugar in the bowl, James started searching the crowded counter for something. Under the now empty carton of eggs, he pulled out two bags of chocolate chips.