《What happens in Vegas》28| Swoon
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It was now the next day and I was currently driving to Bella's house way earlier than what we agreed on. She said to come by around lunch because she said she'll be sleeping in. It's 7 o'clock right now.
I didn't get much sleep last night, I was too nervous and excited for today. Nervous because I need to talk to her dad. I spoke to him while we were in Vegas. I want to ask him about her college plans because I don't think she's being honest with me. I don't think she really wants to go.
I know I should probably ask her, but I've tried and every single time, she acts like she's going. I'm willing to go for her, but if I don't wanna go and she's not going at all, then why the hell would I be going? Berkeley is no more than 8-9 hours away from here, so it's not like we'd be dealing with across the country distance, but that is still really far.
I can't stand the thought of not seeing her every day once I'm in love with her. This is all going so fast, it feels like we're about to crash, I'm just trying not to let that happen.
When I pulled up and walked over to the front door, I contemplated just heading back and coming around when she asked me to, but my body took control and I was ringing the doorbell before I knew it, two bouquets, as promised, in my hands.
The door opened and revealed Mrs. Miller, who I've only met a few times. I could hear music playing and judging from her apron and the flour on her face, they were making breakfast. "Hi, it's Noah, right?" she smiled.
"Right," I nodded with a smile, "I'm sorry, I came earlier than you all were probably expecting but um... anyway, these are for you," I held out the bouquet.
"Oh, she got a good one," she mumbled, "Um, sorry. Thank you! Come on in," she laughed, stepping back and letting me in. I walked in and saw Mr. Miller- who I'm still tempted to call 'coach' and Bella both also wearing aprons.
She looked adorable. Her hair was thrown up in a bun, strands coming out at the front, she had flour all over her, some streaks on her face as well, she had on a loose, grey v-neck with black shorts on and flip flops and from the looks of it, I'd say they're having a baking contest.
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I watched while her dad tried sabotaging her pancakes. "Ay, ay, ay! Hands at your own station!" she yelled, pushing his arm away.
"Would you like to join?" her mom asked, snapping me out of my Bella-staring daze.
"Uh, what exactly are you baking?" I chuckled.
"Pancakes and brownies," she replied.
"Sure, why not?" I shrugged. She handed me a spare apron and I followed her into the kitchen, taking a spot beside Bella. "Hey," I elbowed her.
"Hey," she grinned, "I'm sorry you're seeing me like this and I'm sorry this is the family of your girlfriend," she laughed.
"Why? I'm not," I chuckled while tying the apron behind my back.
"We should make teams," her mom suggested.
"Okay, who's with who?" Bella asked.
"I'm with Bella," her dad said quickly.
"Dad, you can't bake to save your life," she whined.
"Yeah, no. I'll bake with your mom," I laughed. I switched places with her dad and stood with her mom.
"Okay well, I already made pancakes. We gotta make brownies now," Bella said, dusting her hands.
"Who is the best baker here?" I asked.
"Me, obviously," her mom said, throwing her hair up.
"Mm, no," Mr. Miller and Bella said in sync.
"No?" I laughed.
"No, it's Bella," Mr. Miller said.
"Oh, shove it. You just favor her cause she's your daughter," Mrs. Miller rolled her eyes, scoffing.
"That's so not true, hun," Mr. Miller laughed.
"This is gonna take a while, if you couldn't tell," Bella said to me, her hands on her hips.
"I figured," I nodded, looking back and forth between her parents as they argued.
"Maybe we can switch teams," her dad mumbled, looking at me.
"Mm-mm," her mom shook her head, grabbing my arm. "He's probably a better baker than you," she sneered at her husband.
"I probably am," I shrugged.
"There's no way," Bella scoffed, "I don't believe you when you say you can bake."
"And if I can?" I arched an eyebrow at her sharply.
"Then I..." I watched as she leaned in ever so slightly, "Will..."
"Bella," her mom said warningly.
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"Swoon," she grinned, grabbing the eggs and taking a step back. "How about we do girls vs boys and then see who wins?" Bella asked.
"No," Mr. Miller and I said in sync.
"Why not? That'll be fun," Mrs. Miller grinned.
"Mm-mm, Mr. Miller can't bake," I laughed.
"Bella, defend me!" he complained.
"I love you, dad. But you can't bake," Bella chuckled, shaking her head.
"Ha!" her mom laughed.
"I'm very tempted to crack an egg on your head, sweetheart," her dad said sarcastically.
"Work with mom then," she retorted.
"No," he shook his head. We all stood there, baking, mixing, whisking.
Bella took a break in between and let her dad whisk, turning to me in the meantime. "You have flour on your face," she said.
"Where?" I asked, brushing my cheeks with the back of my hand.
"Right there," she said while swiping flour on my cheek. "And there," and then on my other cheek, "And there," adding it to my nose. I huffed, turning to her. "Jesus, okay," she laughed, dusting her hands before brushing it off my face. Her parents got back into playful arguing and banter and we were able to steal a minute. We both took a step out and away from the living room, closer to the stairs. "Hi," she grinned.
"Hi," I smiled. "Oh, I left your roses on the coffee table, there are daisies in there too, just thought I'd let you know," I said.
"Thank you for the flowers," she smiled, "You still have flour on your face," she laughed, dusting it off my cheeks.
"So, do you think your mom likes me?" I asked.
"She definitely likes you," she chuckled, nodding her head, "And you already know my dad likes you, does that mean you've completed your mission?" she asked, arching a brow at me.
"I would like to think so," I chuckled. "You look really adorable, by the way," I said, taking a step closer to her.
"Oh?" she smirked.
I rolled my eyes, placing my hands on her waist and pulling her against me. "I haven't kissed you yet," I whispered.
"My parents are right there," she replied.
"And? What about it?" I smirked before leaning down and kissing her. She started taking steps backward until her legs hit a small table with a vase on it. I pulled away from the kiss and caught the vase just in time, right before it fell to the ground and shattered into tiny little pieces.
"Sorry," she said sheepishly before pecking my lips again.
"I'm really tempted to take you up to your room right now," I whispered.
"Bella! Noah!" her mom called out.
"I guess you have to wait a little longer," she whispered in my ear seductively before sauntering off. I resisted a groan and followed suit.
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Mrs. Miller and I high-fived each other at finishing first while Mr. Miller stood watching and Bella baked, in her own world. She pulled out her brownies from the oven and splayed them out.
"It wasn't a race," she shrugged, taking the oven mitts off. Her mom and I looked at each other knowingly, rolling our eyes.
"That's my daughter," Mr. Miller laughed, pulling Bella into a hug. We didn't make too many but we all tried both batches and I can't lie, Bella's was better.
"So... what do you think?" she asked, looking at me.
"Me?" I asked, dumbfounded.
"Yeah, you've never eaten anything I've baked before," she laughed.
"They're great, seriously. I could eat them forever," I chuckled.
"Better than my mom's?"
I hesitated, looking between the two women. "A little bit?" I shrugged.
"Noah!" her mom huffed, smacking my arm while Bella and her dad high-fived each other, grinning.
"Wrong answer, son," her dad laughed.
"Wrong question," I retorted. He nodded in agreement and then we all started cleaning up the kitchen. Once it was all clean, her parents went out into the backyard and that left her with me.
"So, you came over awfully early? What happened? Couldn't stay away?" she smirked, sitting up on the counter.
"Hmm, I really couldn't," I mumbled, standing between her legs.
"Really?" she asked, leaning.
"Really. In fact, I-"
"Noah." I stepped back immediately and looked up, seeing her dad who was waving me over. I take it we're talking about what I wanted to know.
She looked at me in confusion. "It's nothing, give me a minute," I mumbled, following her dad out to the backyard.
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