"Why are you so hard?" I ask Hakeem. I wiggle around to look at him, since the limited space we have leaves me pressed against his body.

"Why do you think?" He asks, a smirk playing on his face as he pulls me closer to him.

I giggle and trace his jaw with my thumb. I know the answer, but I enjoy teasing him. "I still think you eat rocks or something."

"I could start..." He whispers into my ear, sending tingles down my spine. He peppers my neck with a few light kiss.

My cheeks warm up in response to his comment. "I think we should stick to these hot Cheetos." I let out a giggle, pulling away from him and sitting upright.

In the hour we've been here, I changed into some warm clothes and gave Hakeem something to change into, as well. Right now, we're lounging on the couch with snacks open on the coffee table. Hakeem's in gray sweats that I stole from my dad a few years ago and and a cotton t-shirt that he was wearing under his hoodie.

"How am I going to maintain this hard body you love on hot Cheetos?" He chuckles.

"You'll find a way." I wink, popping a couple into my mouth.

"You should eat some real food, too." He says, sitting up on the couch. "It's past lunch time."

"I guess you have a point." I concede. "Let me go see what we have in the kitchen." I pack up the snacks and take them with me.

After putting them away, I check the fridge for any leftovers.

"Is there some of your dad's cooking in there?" Hakeem says, peeking in from over my shoulder.

I scan the shelves and find only fresh, uncooked food. "Nope. You missed out on his rice and peas last night."

"Damn." He mumbles, backing up.

"We can make something, though." I suggest, mentally putting the ingredients we have here together. I spot the pre-made pizza crust I bought impulsively. "We can make a pizza!"

"That's valid."

"Bet. Here let me get out the ingredients." I say, pulling out the things we would need for the pizza. I set them out on the island before I pull out the pan and other utensils we need to make the pizza.

"Damn. I wish we had pineapple." I pout, poking into the fridge for toppings.

"You wish we had what?" Hakeem asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Pineapple." I repeat, turning to him with pepperoni and veggies in my hand.

"Why would you ever do such a thing to pizza?"

"It's good!" I exclaim. I walk over to the sink to wash my hands before getting started. Hakeem follows suit.

"It's a sin!"

"As if you're worried about that." I roll my eyes.

"Regardless of my morals, pineapple doesn't belong on pizza."

"And Roxanne doesn't belong on Hakeem." I shrug, unrolling the dough onto the pan I just greased.

"Oh, c'mon. You don't mean that." He pouts, popping the tomato sauce open.

"But, I do." I tease.

"You sure about that?" He asks, suddenly towering over me.

I try to turn to move out of his grasp, but his body seems to form a wall around me. A wall of tall, chocolatey–Roxanne! I stop my thoughts before they can go any further. A deep blush forms on my face.

"You don't seem sure..." He says, his head buried in my neck.

"Pizza." Is all I can mutter without my voice succumbing to his kisses.

"Take back what you said." He says, continuing his assault on my neck.

I bite my bottom lip, refusing to let him win.

He trails his kisses up, tracing my jaw. He continues to the corner of my lip. As he closes the space between our lips, I lean forward. But, instead of meeting my lips, he moves back and returns to his full height.

"If your statement is true, then you wouldn't want to kiss me, would you?" He smirks.

"Fine." I groan. "I take it back." I mutter at a volume that is almost inaudible.

"What'd you say?"

"I'm not repeating myself."

"Fine, be like that." He sighs, stepping away.

Now that he's far enough from my brain cells, I can return to making this pizza.

We work together to add sauce, cheese, and a variety of toppings before putting it in the oven. I set a timer before we proceed to clean up the kitchen and ourselves.

While we wait, we return to the couch.

I'm posting a selfie of Hakeem and I on my snap when I get a text from my mom.

Mommy 💕: Hey sweetie, I'm glad you're safe at home. I just wanted to tell you that some of the other staff are worried that we'll have to spend the night here. I'm crossing my fingers that we don't, but it's not looking good. I'll call you if it's confirmed 😘

I quickly type back a response. I hope she can get home safe. Spending a night in the hospital wouldn't be fun.

"Damn. I'm kind of worried for my parents. This snow just keeps coming down." I think out loud.

"I hope they can get home safe." Hakeem says, rubbing my back.

"How's your dad getting home?" I ask.

"He'll be fine." Hakeem says, dismissively. "It's not like he was at work or anything." He adds with an eye roll.

"Oh, he stayed home today? That's smart." I nod.

"Something like that." He says. "I think it's time we finish that talk we were having on Saturday." He adds, the mood shifting.

"What talk?" I ask, putting my phone down.

"Remember in the car, when I told you I had something important to say?" He explained.

I think back to Saturday. That day was hectic. "Yeah! I think so. What's up?"

"Well, um... where do I start?" He says, scratching the back of his head. He looks nervous and uncomfortable, which makes me curious as to what he has to say.

I have a feeling it relates to his family, so I decide to ask about that.

"Well... you never mention your mom." I mumble, afraid to pry too much.

"Ah, yes." He says, looking down at his lap. "My mom is dead. And it's my fault."

---------------
Oof
Um hey 👋🏾 Idk how to write this when I ended the chapter like that, so comment your thoughts!

And for my quiet readers: comment what country you live in! (Or state if you're in the US)

See you next time!

xoxo
-Gaëlle