Chapter's song: Don't be a fool by Shawn Mendes

Mom is a great cook. Dinner is great, but a bit awkward. For me. 

Mark seems to be having a blast. He's been talking non-stop to Mom about...everything and anything.

The fact that conversation flows easily with my mother is a bit unnerving. I mean, why do I sometimes find it so hard to strike a conversation with him? It's not like he's shy or anything.

I blame it on Mark.

I blame everything on him.

He makes everything more difficult, and that's it.

I take a deep breath as Mom asks if anyone wants coffee. "I'll make it Mom." It's not like I have anything to talk about. I cringe inwardly. Boy, do I sound sour.

I stand up before she does, and I can feel both pairs of eyes on me as I step inside the kitchen. Despite the fact that I haven't lived here in years, I know where everything is. I set the coffee machine in less than five minutes, and just as I'm pressing the on button, I hear Mom's laugh. I roll my eyes. Glad they're having fun.

My brows furrow as I lean against the counter. Wait a minute. Am I jealous of my mother?

I don't even have to be jealous!

Mark and I are just friends! He's been quick to remind me that for the last ten hours, or so!

And I don't mind.

I'm not even sure I can date anyone. Men are so freaking complicated. They complain about women, but in truth, who the hell knows what they really want?

The coffee machine starts to gurgle and I take out three mugs. My hand freezes as I see what used to be one of my favorite mugs. I stare at it for a moment. It's white and has four pictures of when I was dating Hugh's cousin, Scott. Slowly, I grab it to gaze at the pictures, while my heart tightens. Scott gave it to me as a Christmas present when we came over for the holidays a few years back. I didn't know Mom still kept it.

Twirling the mug, I see the pictures. We're smiling and holding hands in most of them. The one I gaze the most at is when we're looking at each other, with one of Barcelona's plazas on the background. I was sure he was going to propose when we were there. But he didn't. In fact, things cooled off after that. Pressing my lips together, I put it back in the cabinet.

Things happen for a reason, right?

He is gone and life moves on. I mean, I'm still stuck on that shitty job at the newspaper, and my social life is pretty much nonexistent...

Okay. Where the hell is the sugar?

I don't want to think about Scott. It always makes me double bitter because I know he's doing great.

And I'm not.

I wasn't enough to keep him interested in me. The thought feels like a stab in the chest, my eyes brim with tears and I bit my lip, trying to keep the tears at bay.

No wonder I haven't dated since we broke up.

I hate feeling like this, weak, insecure and...broken. But he did break me. He's having a great life and I haven't achieved anything with mine.

What does that say about me?

I notice that Kate takes forever with the coffee. Did I make her uncomfortable by jeopardizing the conversation? Bloody hell. Maybe she wanted to talk to her mother and me, trying to gain a good impression on her Mom, screwed it up.

I'm fucking clueless when it comes to Kate.

Anya must notice that I've glanced at the kitchen door for the last ten minutes, because she clears her throat, and for the first time in my life, my cheeks feel warm as I slid my eyes to her. I feel tiny as her gaze is knowing. Am I that obvious? Not so, because Kate friend-zoned me at the first opportunity she got!

"Would you help Kate with that coffee? I'm gonna run down the street to the bakery to get some cookies."

My lips curve. The chair creaks as I pulled it away from the table to stand up. "Thank you, Anya."

She gets up as well. "I hope you like chocolate-mint cookies. Mrs. Blair makes the most wonderful ones!"

"They sound great, thank you."

She pats my arm as she passes beside me. "I'll see you in a bit." I follow her with my eyes as she leaves. 

Kate looks so much like her, but they are quite different, too. She has her eyes and her smile, but the attitude...

My smile widens. Okay. Maybe I'm wrong. Anya seems like one of those women you don't want to mess up with. Just like Kate.

I can't believe I just blushed with Kate's mom. I fucking blushed.

Scratching the back of my neck, I glance at the kitchen one more time. The house already smells like coffee, so I'm sure Kate is almost finished.

Okay. Let's do some damage control.

I don't expect to find Kate lost in her thoughts, though. She's staring through the window, her golden hair is glimmering under the sun rays and I can't help but ogle at her like a fucking idiot. 

She takes a deep breath before turning to me. She gives me a soft smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "The coffee is ready," she says before pouring it into the mugs. "But I can't find the sugar, would you mind asking Mom where she keeps it? I didn't find it." She seems to be trying to sound nonchalant, but her voice sounds different.

"She's not here. She went to get cookies from a neighbor." I frown, the name of the old lady completely lost on me.

Something's up with Kate, and it's not me.

I mean, I can annoy the crap out of her, but I never make her...sad. And she's sad, I can see it in her eyes, in the way she's trying to force a smile out of her, in the way she's getting busy and trying to blink to keep the tears at bay.

What the hell made her sad?

She bites her lip. "Oh. Do you drink sugar in your coffee?"

"I do. Insane amounts of sugar, Emily always makes fun of me for that." I'm trying to keep up the conversation, but I'm really just running ideas in my head as to why would she feel sad about.

Is it because of her father? I've never heard of the man, and I guess it must be a rough subject for her? I didn't even see pictures of anyone in the living room, and I'd never asked Emily about it. It never crossed my mind, to be honest. Or is it something else?

Bloody hell.

I don't like seeing her like that.

"Kate, are you okay?"She immediately turns away, opening different cabinets, looking for the sugar, I presume. Yet, the fact that her neck is now tinted pink doesn't go unnoticed.

"I'm fine, maybe a little tired from the trip." She passes next to me as she moves to the larger cabinet on the corner. "I mean, you drive like a beast. I was praying inside my head through the whole ride." Her voice sounds muffled as she opens the doors and peeks inside it.

I get it. She doesn't want to talk about it, and as much as I do, I don't want to push her. Hopefully, she'll open up with me. One day.

Trying to ignore the way my stomach tightens, I lean on the counter, crossing my arms. "My driving is superb, Kate. I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't even speed."

She closes the doors holding a jar in her hands. "I'm not sure I want to ride with you when you're speeding, then." Her lips quirk up, and this time, it's not forced.

I breathe out, the stiff muscles in my neck relaxing a bit. "Oh, you're on now. I'll take you to a racing track soon."

She stares at me as if I've grown two heads. "A racing track? You race?"

I shrug. "Sometimes." I try not to sound too conceited, but honestly, I'm good. 

Charles' family, one of my best friends, owns the tracks, and his father taught us to drive since we were both teens. Racing cars would have been my ultimate dream, but being a royal...there's only a few things you can actually do.

"You're one of those guys who love extreme sports, don't you?"

You have no idea. "I guess." She passes me the sugar and a spoon. 

I sweeten my coffee, knowing full well that I've got her attention. I'm trying not to do a happy dance, but I can't help the wide smile on my face.

"Why?" Kate grabs her mug and takes a sip after leaning on the counter next to me.

"I like the freedom I feel. There's nothing more rewarding as working really hard for something and knowing you've achieved it, and knowing that not everyone has the courage to do it. It's liberating."

Her lips part as she gazes at me. Her eyes are sparkling and gleaming, and the grin that draws in her face leaves me breathless.

She raises one eyebrow. "Should I be worried about tomorrow then?"

My own smile widens. "Very."

She chuckles and the sound makes my pulse accelerate. Hearing her laugh, knowing that I made her happy, is like music to my ears. As soon as the thought pops into my head, I snort.

Fuck. I have it bad.

She licks her lips before raising her mug mocking a toast, "I can't wait."

Me either. 

So sorry for taking so much to write this!! Especially after my rambling in last chapter! haha. In my defense, I was super busy getting everything ready for my trip to Toronto, and then it was the trip and I really didn't have time to write as I'd expected. Then, I came back and I was still sort of hyped about it, so it was hard to concentrate. So, so sorry. 

If you want to see some pics of my trip to Wattpad HQ, check them out on Instagram :)

Also...Take Out Chef is complete!! YAY! I'll add a few bonus chapters but I needed to finish it before I concentrated on this story. I'll resume with Writer's Luck really soon, because I freaking love that story, it's one of my personal favorites. 

And I pimped out the story making graphics and changing them on all chapters! Did you guys like it?

What are your plans for December? I'm editing Perfectly Imperfect and have a bunch of events, because...Christmas :) but I won't forget about you guys, I promise. You're all amazing and I'm thrilled to hear from you always :)

See you soon!