Daddy's Little Whore
Daddy’s Little Whore – Part 112

KEIRA’s POV

I slammed the door shut behind me, feeling a sense of regret wash over me. Clint’s invitation was tempting, and I would have jumped at it before he even asked, but my promise to Natasha kept ringing in my head.

I was barely at home most of the time, and she had asked that we eat dinner together, seeing as it had been a long time since we had done that. I let out a sigh and removed my bag from my shoulder.

As I approached the living room, I heard Natasha’s voice booming from the living room.

“Oh yeah! Do not forget to take some pictures and bring some souvenirs back with you,” she giggled.

She sounded rather giddy. Who on earth was she talking to? Had she gotten a boyfriend or something?

“Alright, I will talk to you later, Brendon.”

My heart skipped a beat. Brendon? Was she talking to Brendon?

I walked into the living room, and Natasha paused. She had been roaming in front of the couch with a phone to her ear. The bright smile on her face died down, and the phone slid down from her ear.

“Hey! You are finally back! I was waiting for you!” She beamed and walked over to me.

I smiled at her, my mind still racing that she had just gotten off the phone with Brendon. Was she going to tell me? Do I bring it up? I was conflicted.

“Yeah, did I take too long?”

Natasha shook her head. “You are right on time!”

Natasha was surprisingly in a good mood. Was it because of Brendon? That was the only conclusion I could come up with. I placed my bag on the couch and rolled up my sleeves.

“So, are we going to get cooking, or what?”

Natasha giggled and rushed into the kitchen. It would be best to bring it up if she mentioned that Brendon called.

I walked into the kitchen, and Natasha already had her apron on, ready to cook our dinner. I instantly recalled how Natasha and I spent our weekends cooking lunch and dinner together all the time. It was a tradition, and I was thrilled we rekindled it.

“So, what are we making tonight?” Natasha asked as she rummaged through the fridge.

“I was thinking we could make some pasta,” I replied, pulling a pack of spaghetti from the pantry.

“Pasta sounds good,” she said, nodding. “Do we have any sauce?”

I opened the fridge and pulled out a jar of marinara sauce. “We have this,” I said, holding it up.

“Perfect!” she exclaimed, grinning. “Let us get started!”

We began by boiling a pot of water for the pasta. While we waited for it to boil, Natasha chopped up some garlic and onions, and I sliced some mushrooms.

My mind kept trailing back to the phone call I had eavesdropped on. I had no idea why it bothered me so much, but I had a lot of questions that needed answers. I occasionally glanced at Natasha, who was moving the knife on the chopping board while humming a tune I had never heard before.

Once the water was boiling, we added the spaghetti and let it cook. While it cooked, we sautéed the garlic and onions in a pan with some olive oil. Then we added the mushrooms and let them cook until they were soft.

Next, we added the marinara sauce to the pan and let it simmer. When the pasta was done, we drained it and added it to the pan, mixing it with the sauce.

We served the food on plates and took them to the table.

“This looks amazing,” Natasha said, taking a forkful of pasta.

I took a bite and closed my eyes, savoring the flavors. The pasta was perfectly cooked, and the sauce was deliciously tangy.

But my curiosity got the best of me, and I asked about Brendon.

“I do not mean to pry Tash, but I overheard a bit of your conversation with Brendon,” I said, my eyes trailing up to her.

Natasha paused, her fork filled with pasta mid-air. Her vibrant expression had toned down and was clouded with one I could not comprehend. Was it fear, or was it sadness?

Natasha placed her fork down and smiled, which I knew was clearly forced.

“Yeah, I actually took your advice.”

I went owl-eyed. “You…confessed?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha nodded, and her cheeks flushed bright red. I grabbed her hand from the other side of the table, my eyes gleaming with excitement.

“And? What did he say?”

Natasha giggled. “Calm down, girl. Brendon hasn’t given me an answer yet. He said he would think about it for a few days, but with how he sounded, it seems like there’s hope?” she said shyly.

I could not describe the immense joy that was swirling around my heart. This was a great thing. Natasha had a great chance to be with the person she had feelings for.

“That is amazing, Tash, really,” I smiled.

“Are you sure you are not mad at me?”

I shook my head and raised an eyebrow at her. “I mean, why would I be mad? My best friend finally confessed to the guy she had been in love with and had a chance to be with him. That makes me super delighted.”

I could see her tear up as her smile brightened. “Thanks, Keira.”

We continued to eat and chat about our day, enjoying the delicious meal we had both made together.

As I finished the last bite of pasta, I felt content. Cooking with Natasha always made me feel relaxed and at ease. The meal we had made was just what I needed to unwind after a long day and a long week of constant anxiety and panic attacks. I felt grateful for her friendship and the opportunity to cook and share a meal.

I offered to clean up since Natasha was feeling a bit sleepy. I dumped all the plates into the sink and began to wash them clean. As I scrubbed the dishes, my phone beeped, notifying me that a message had popped in.

I moved from the sink and glanced at my phone on the dining table. My eyes went wide as I read the message on the screen.