Chapter 7: Kaden
I was nervous - again, as I always seemed to be when Natasha Greeley was involved - before going to her house that evening. I tried on three different outfits before settling on a pair of jeans that had garnered a lot of compliments from various girls at school and a t-shirt that, while not exactly 'fitted,' was not exactly 'loose,' either. I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom laughing at my own behavior, barely believing that an invitation for some homemade cornbread was causing me such stress. Homemade cornbread, though. There was something so fucking wonderful about that - so innocent. Life was all parties and hook-ups at that age. I'd had so many blowjobs from random girls I couldn't have remembered them all if you asked. But a girl cooking for me? Home cooking? That had never happened. On the drive to Tasha's house, I wondered if we were the first generation in history to view baking for someone as somehow more intimate than giving them head.
Tasha's house was in one of the working class neighborhoods. There was a lot of chain-link fencing and dried out lawns, but it was all well-kept. I pulled my Suburban up to the curb outside her house and looked inside. There she was, standing in what appeared to be the living room, talking to someone and pulling her hair up into a ponytail. Even from the street, I could tell it was her. There was something about the way she held her body, as if she wasn't exactly sure how attractive she was. I watched her for a few minutes, transfixed, and then realized that if I kept it up much longer it'd probably be really creepy. I locked the SUV and walked up the front steps to the door.
"Kaden!" Tasha said, smiling at me as she opened the door and I found myself enveloped in the scent of baking to the point that I thought I might actually start drooling. My own mother didn't cook. Neither did my dad. Either the maid made us dinner before she left for the night or it was the Whole Foods hot bar for us.
"Hey, Tasha.' I replied, mostly failing to keep a gigantic grin off my face. "Something smells damn good."
She ushered me inside and showed me into the kitchen as I tried to conceal the fact that I was taking everything in - everything about her, everything about the house. There's something so interesting about seeing someone outside of their usual environment. I was fascinated. It was neat and tidy - just like the front yard. No clutter, everything perfectly dusted. I almost made a comment about their maid being good at her job but bit my tongue at the last minute when I realized that her family almost certainly didn't have a maid.
"You sit here," Tasha said, pointing to a chair.
"Is your family home?" I asked.
"Oh, um. Yeah, my mom's sleeping, my sister's doing homework, my brother's at work and my brother's girlfriend is upstairs with my niece." She replied, slipping on an oven mitt and opening the oven door to check on her cornbread.
I sat down and watched her. She was wearing another pair of those leggings she always had on, the ones that made it virtually impossible to not to notice her ass. Tasha's ass. It would have been so easy to just get up, walk up behind her and cup that ripe curve in one of my hands. Any other girl and I would have done just that. But something felt different that night. For one thing, I was at her house and that in itself was unusual. Most of the time I spent with girls was - well, not at their houses. There was something else, too. At first, I couldn't quite put my finger on it but as I watched Tasha bustling proudly around the kitchen it dawned on me. I didn't say anything because part of me thought it might offend her - or make her laugh. It was her sweet, feminine energy. It was the way she expertly pushed a skewer into the hot cornbread and pulled it out to make sure it was clean. Sounds stupid, right? But I loved it. If someone had given me the option, right then, of a blowjob from one of the cheerleaders and just eating cornbread with Tasha - cornbread that she was baking for me - I would have taken the latter. No question. It surprised even me.
"What are you smirking about?" She asked, catching the smile on my face as I contemplated what the hell she was doing to me.
"Me? Uh, nothing. I guess I just - I'm enjoying this."
I couldn't help but steal another glance at her body as I spoke and she busted me immediately.
"Oh yeah, Kaden, I can see that you're enjoying this. Hopefully, you can keep your eyes on the food long enough to avoid getting it all over yourself."
Dammit. That wasn't what I'd meant at all. "No," I started, slightly flustered and then even more flustered by the fact that I was flustered. Me. Kaden Barlow. That wasn't supposed to happen! "That's not what I meant, I just-"
Tasha was laughing at me - not unkindly, but still, it was obvious she didn't believe me. For some reason, it was suddenly imperative that she understand what I meant. I got up and took one of her delicate wrists in my hand, making her look at me.