Love and Lists

“Alright, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she tells me ominously before I roll my eyes and end the call.

Taking a deep breath, I reach my hand up and knock on his door. It’s been a few days since the whole losing of the virginity thing, but I am happy to say that it hasn’t been awkward between us at all. Gavin has been busy with work but we’ve talked on the phone every day. Before I finally admit that I love him and that I’ve spent all these months using a list Rocco made of things that would get him to fall in love with me, I want to have some fun.

The door opens and Gavin stands in the doorway, looking me up and down. “Nice coat.”

He smiles at me and pushes the door open wider so I can come in. I borrowed one of Molly’s white chef coats for the evening. And I’m not wearing anything underneath it.

“Are you cooking me dinner?”

I laugh and slide my hand into his, pulling him through the apartment and into his kitchen. “Nope, you know I can’t cook. I’ve got something better planned,” I tell him.

Stopping next to the fridge, I turn around to face him and unbutton the front of the coat until it’s draped open and I’m just standing in a matching black lace bra and thong.

“Never mind. That coat sucks,” he mutters as he stares at me.

He moves to come closer and I hold up my hand in front of him. “Nope. You just stay right there and close your eyes.”

Gavin does as I ask and I quickly turn to the fridge and open the door.

“Are you making yourself a snack?” he asks with a laugh.

“Shush! Don’t move and keep your eyes closed.”

Bending down to stare into the fridge, I have a moment of doubt as I stare at the vast emptiness in front of me. How the hell am I going to do this? I knew I should have stopped at the store before I came here. Glancing around quickly, I grab the first bottle I see and quickly shut the door. Pulling up on the lid, I squirt the best upside down heart I can manage on my chest.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” I tell him.

Gavin blinks his eyes open and stares. “Wow. Okay. Still hot. But what is that?” he asks, pointing to the heart.

“It’s mustard. And you’re going to lick it off me,” I tell him with a confident smile.

This was such a better idea when I imagined it with chocolate sauce in my head.

“Mustard … I’m going to … yeah. That’s hot. That’s totally hot. I’m okay with this.”

He walks up to me and gulps before lowering his head slower than I’ve ever seen him move. He scrunches up his face like he’s in pain, and I’m starting to get a complex here.

“Is something wrong? I have a heart on my boobs that needs to be removed with your tongue,” I remind him.

His mouth is hovering a few inches from my boobs, and he shakes his head back and forth quickly. “Nope. Nothing wrong. Nothing wrong at all. You are totally hot and I am going to lick this … mustard off of you. I’m going to do it and it’s going to be awesome.”

Right now it sounds like he’s giving himself a pep talk instead of reassuring me that he’s good.

I know it’s not chocolate sauce, but come on! Half naked woman standing here! I close my eyes as he starts to move forward again and right when I feel his warm breath on my chest and anticipate the feel of his tongue against my skin, I hear a gagging sound. Popping my eyes open, I look down at him.

“Are you gagging right now? Oh my God, Gavin! You’re totally gagging when your mouth is right by my boobs!” I shout.

“It’s … not … your … boobs! I … love … your … boobs!” he yells, gagging in between each word as he backs away.

“I cannot believe you’re gagging!” I tell him, stomping my foot.

“Oh God, I’m sorry! I hate … mustard. Oh Jesus, I thought I could do this but I can’t. It’s … mustard … fuck … mustard is … uuugghh … mustard.”

“WILL YOU STOP SAYING MUSTARD IF IT MAKES YOU SICK?!” I shout, reaching for a towel on the counter and quickly wiping the mustard heart off of my chest.

“Why the hell do you have mustard in your fridge if you hate it?” I demand.

“I don’t know! I’m a dude. Dudes always have mustard in their fridge!”

“There, is that better?” I ask, tossing the towel into the sink and holding my arms out.

“Yes, much better,” he tells me with a sigh as he moves back toward me.

He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me up against him. Just as soon as our bodies touch, he pushes me away and takes a step back.

“Nope, not better. I can still smell it. Oh Jesus, it’s so mustardy!”

His hand is covering his mouth at this point and he’s bent over at the waist. In an angry huff, I turn around and march back to the fridge, flinging the door open and grabbing random items. I take the lid off of the first bottle in my arsenal, whirl around, and start pitching it in his general direction. A-1 sauce rains down on his head and all over the kitchen floor.

His head jerks up as I empty the bottle and then toss it to the side, flipping up the lid on the squeeze-bottle of ketchup tucked under my arm before bringing it up above my head in both hands.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would,” I threaten before squeezing hard on the bottle. An arc of ketchup flies out and hits Gavin right in the chest.