Chapter 220
**Sara**
I yanked open the door to find Tom leaning against the frame, his usual smirk playing across his lips. His eyes traveled from my messy hair to the sauce on my face, then down to my "Kiss the Cook" apron.
"Well, if you insist," he said, tapping the text on my apron. Before I could respond with something witty, he pulled me into a kiss that made my toes curl.
Tom's kiss sent electricity through my body. His lips were soft yet demanding against mine. His fingers tangled in my messy hair, not caring about my kitchen disaster state.
I melted into him, forgetting all about my sauce-stained cheek and the vegetables cooling on the stove.
My hands reached his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath his crisp button-down shirt.
He guided me backward into my apartment, kicking the door shut behind us without breaking the kiss. My back hit the wall next to my coat rack, and he pressed closer, one hand braced against the wall beside my head.
"Tom," I gasped when we finally came up for air. My head spun pleasantly, and I had to grip his shoulders to stay steady.
"Yes?" His eyes sparkled with mischief, his thumb brushing across my cheek to wipe away the sauce.
"Why did you call earlier if you were coming over anyway?"
He grinned, planting a quick kiss on my nose. "I was trying to surprise you with plans, but someone doesn't know how to answer her phone."
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "What grand romantic gesture did I miss out on?"
"Well..." He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking sheepish. "I hadn't exactly planned that far ahead. I thought maybe the game zone?"
I burst out laughing. "The game zone? Mr. Sophisticated Corporate Finance Professor wants to play skeeball?"
Tom's face flushed slightly, making him even more adorable. "I didn't really think it through. Just figured we could have some fun, maybe win some cheap prizes..."
"You're such a kid." I poked his chest playfully. "What's next? Chuck E. Cheese?"
"Hey, you're not exactly a grandma yourself." He caught my finger mid-poke and pulled me closer. "Besides, I saw you eyeing that giant stuffed penguin in the window last time we walked past."
"That was different. I was admiring the craftsmanship."
"It's a mass-produced plushie with googly eyes."
"A very sophisticated mass-produced plushie." I tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably.
Tom leaned close, whispering conspiratorially. "Look, if anyone at the university finds out that Professor Thomas Blackwood spends his evenings playing whack-a-mole, I'll deny everything. No one would believe you anyway."
"Oh really?" I grinned wickedly. "I bet your students would love to know their intimidating finance professor gets excited about arcade tickets."
"Don't you dare." He narrowed his eyes, but his lips twitched with suppressed laughter. "I have a reputation to maintain."
His nose suddenly lifted, and he sniffed the air. "Something smells amazing. Were you cooking?"
"No, I just like to stand around in an apron covered in sauce for fun." I rolled my eyes. "Of course, I was cooking. Some of us don't survive solely on protein shakes."
Tom peered over my shoulder into the kitchen, his chest pressing against my back. "Whatever it is, it smells incredible. Come on, let's eat."
I bit my lip, glancing at my modest pot of vegetables. "I don't know. I wasn't exactly planning for two. It might not be enough."
"Are you trying to deny me your cooking?" He wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. "After I came all this way to sweep you off to the game zone?"
I sighed. "Fine, how about we skip my sad attempt at cooking and hit the game zone? We can grab some real food after."
"Not a chance. I've been smelling this since I walked in, and now I need to taste it. Besides," he kissed my neck, "watching you cook in this apron is doing things to me."
"It's just vegetables and sauce."
"Sexy vegetables and sauce."
I snorted. "That's the worst attempt at flirting I've ever heard."
"Got you to laugh, though." He unwrapped himself from around me and headed to my cabinet, grabbing plates like he owned the place. "Come on, feed me. Then we can go win you that penguin."
I shook my head, watching him pull out plates with practiced familiarity. "You know, for someone who's supposedly a billionaire's son, you're weirdly excited about arcade prizes."
"Hey, I could buy that entire penguin manufacturing company if I wanted to." He set the plates on the counter with a flourish. "Probably rename it 'Tom's Premium Plushies' or something equally ridiculous."
"And yet here you are, planning to waste perfectly good quarters trying to win one." I spooned the vegetables onto our plates, the aroma making my stomach growl.
Tom leaned against the counter, that insufferable smirk playing on his lips. "It's about the thrill of victory, Sara. The satisfaction of achievement. The-"
"The complete waste of time when you could literally buy thousands of them?"
"Where's the fun in that?" He grabbed forks from the drawer. "Besides, I want to see you jump up and down excitedly when I win it for you."
I rolled my eyes. "Bold of you to assume you'll win anything."
"Are you suggesting that I, the great Thomas Blackwood, financial wizard, and master strategist, can't handle a simple arcade game?"
"Financial wizard doesn't exactly translate to skeeball champion." I took a bite of my food, trying not to laugh at his dramatic performance.
"You're severely underestimating my hidden talents." He waggled his eyebrows, shoveling a forkful of vegetables into his mouth. His eyes widened. "Holy shit, this is good."
"Don't change the subject. And I'm not underestimating anything. Those games are rigged - they're designed to eat your money faster than your students' loan debt."
"Did you just make a finance joke?" He grinned. "I'm so proud. But trust me, I've got this. Physics, probability, hand-eye coordination - it's all just math in the end."
I snorted. "Right, because that's exactly what Newton had in mind when discovering gravity - winning cheap stuffed animals."
"Mock all you want, but I'm getting you that penguin." He pointed his fork at me. "And when I do, I expect a full apology for doubting my arcade prowess."
"Let's see this magical talent of yours then." I stood up, gathering our now-empty plates. "Just so you know, my expectations are through the roof."
Tom's eyes lit up with that competitive spark I knew all too well. "Challenge accepted. But first-" He grabbed my wrist as I passed, pulling me onto his lap. "You've got a little sauce right here." His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth before he leaned in to kiss me.
I melted into the kiss for a moment before pulling back. "Nice try, but you're not distracting me from witnessing your inevitable defeat at the hands of rigged carnival games."
"Just wait," he murmured against my lips. "Just you wait."
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