Chapter 60 I Shouldn't Do It
Noah's POV:
I shouldn't do it. I know that. But that knowledge means nothing right now. All I care about is how amazing it would feel to finally kiss her. How soft her lips would feel against mine. How much I craved it. Wanted it. Needed it.
It doesn't matter that I'm her boss or that this is highly inappropriate. Neither of those things will stop me now. Not when she's this close and she smells so good. She's wearing a soft floral scent. It's delicate and definitely not overpowering. I breathe in deeply as I move to pull her against myself, lowering my lips to hers.
The apartment is filled with a screeching sound, forcing us to pull apart.
"What the hell is that?" I ask.
"I think I burnt dinner," she wails, hurrying out of the room.
Smirking to myself, I follow after her. The kitchen is full of smoke, which is only made worse when she opens the oven. Clearly, Eden doesn't usually cook. I feel strangely honoured. Pushing her to the side, I close the oven door most of the way so the smoke can escape slowly before opening the window.
"Sorry," she tells me, looking down at the floor.
Taking her by the hand, I lead her back into the living room, closing the kitchen door behind us. I reach up to the ceiling, pressing the cancelation button on the fire alarm before looking back at Eden.
"So, how about takeout?" I ask, smirking at her.
"Sorry," she says again.
"Why? It's no big deal," I tell her. "Besides I'm pretty sure it was at least partly my fault."
"How?"
"I distracted you."
"You distracted..." It takes her a moment to work out what I mean but when she does her cheeks turn scarlet.
Taking pity on her, I say, "you order something and I'll tidy up the charred remains of dinner."
"Er... shouldn't I be the one cleaning up, since it's my house and I'm the one who clearly can't cook?"
"You can't cook?" I ask.
"Well... Not well."
"Why on earth did you try and make dinner if you know you can't cook?"
She groans, not meeting my gaze.
"It didn't look that complicated," she tells me bitterly. "Besides, you said you were at least partly to blame. You can't change your mind on that now."
"Hang on... Is destroying dinner a capital offence? Am I going to be hung and quartered if I agree to accept half the responsibility."
"If you were a gentleman you'd take full responsibility."
"For dinner?" I laugh teasingly. "I'll take responsibility for dinner. I can do that easily. I'll clear up and order takeout. There you go. Full responsibility accepted."
Giggling, she shakes her head, "you order takeout. I'll sort the disaster zone that is my kitchen."
"Do you have a menu," I ask, "or should I just use an app."
"Use my phone," she says, pulling it out of her back pocket. She pulls up a number before handing it to me. "They already have my order. Just add whatever else you want."
"Are you introducing me to your favourite takeout?" I ask as she makes her way back into the kitchen.
"Huh?" She looks back at me as she opens the oven once more.
"Are you sure you trust me with your favourite takeout?" I tease.
"What are you going to do? Eat it all so I can't have any ever again?"
"If I like it, I'm going to have all your orders redirected to my place."
"Then I'll just come and take it back."
"You don't know where I live."
"I'm sure I could get that information out of someone in HR."
"They're legally obliged not to tell you."
"Security weren't supposed to let me see the CCTV footage either."
"Or you could take the easy option and ask me for it."
"Ask you for what?" Eden asks, momentarily confused.
"My address."
"In this hypothetical scenario you are stealing my takeout," Eden says. "Why would you give me your address?"
"Maybe, I don't want to steal it. Maybe, I just want to share it."
What the hell am I doing? This has got to stop. I really shouldn't be flirting with Eden. The desire to kiss her is still very much so present and it's taking a heck of a lot of self control not to.
Instead of allowing my thoughts to linger, I press the call button on her phone and order us something to eat.
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