Red.

NADIA

As we entered the private kitchen, I couldn't help but feel a sense of surprise.

The room was sleek and modern, with stainless steel appliances and marble countertops. The walls were painted a warm gray, and the floors were made of dark hardwood. A large island in the center of the room held various cooking utensils and ingredients, and a professional-grade stove stood against one wall. The kitchen was spotless, with not a single crumb or smudge in sight.

I walked further into the room, my eyes scanning the space in disbelief. "You're going to cook?" I asked Elijah, my tone skeptical. I couldn't fathom the idea of Mr. Rich Guy actually cooking up a storm.

Elijah chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Why, is it hard to believe I can cook?" he teased, his voice low and husky.

I raised an eyebrow, my mind flashing back to memories of my parents cooking together in our small kitchen. They had always moved in perfect sync, their hands touching as they chopped vegetables or stirred pots. It was a lovely sight, one that I had always cherished. But I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the present moment.

"I can't cook in this," I said, gesturing to my dress. It was a beautiful but not designed for cooking.

Elijah shrugged, his eyes never leaving mine. "Then take it off," he said nonchalantly, as if it was the simplest solution in the world.

I hesitated, my mind racing with possibilities. But then I spotted a closet in the back of the room, filled with clothes. I made my way over, closing the door behind me. The closet was stocked with various outfits, all bearing the label "Grey Private Residence." I settled on a pair of grey sweatpants and a top with the same label.

As I changed, I stumbled, causing a loud bang to echo through the room. "Are you alright in there?" Elijah called out, his voice laced with amusement.

I picked up the fallen object - a hairbrush - and placed it back on the counter. "Yes," I called out, my voice strained.

But as I struggled to remove my dress, I realized I needed help. I huffed in frustration, finally admitting defeat. "Fine, I need your help," I said, popping out of the closet.

Elijah stood up straight, his eyes sparkling with mirth. He walked towards me, his movements fluid and graceful. I waited for him, my back against the wall, my eyes fixed on his face.

As I stood frozen, my face reflected in the mirror, Elijah's gaze held mine captive. I couldn't look away, even as his knuckles brushed against my back, sending shivers down my spine. His fingers deftly undid the dress's fastenings, the sound of the zipper echoing through the room. The dress's material rustled as he carefully peeled it away from my skin, his touch sending waves of warmth through me.

My breath hitched as his hand grazed my bare shoulder, and I felt my heart race in response. "All done," he whispered, his eyes never leaving mine. It wasn't until he backed away, leaving me to the cold air, that I snapped out of the trance.

I stripped off the dress, my movements hurried, and put the grey sweatpants and top on. When I emerged from the room, Elijah greeted me with a warm smile. He twirled me around, tying the apron around my waist, his fingers brushing against my skin. I felt a flutter in my chest as he pulled me close, the warmth of his body enveloping me.

As we began making the dough, Elijah moved with a fluid grace, his eyes sparkling with enjoyment. "Add more flour," he instructed, his hands moving deftly as he mixed and kneaded the dough. I followed his lead, my attempts at precision thwarted by his playful jabs and flour-covered fingers. I gasped dramatically, making flour-covered faces at him, only to have him destroy my creations with a swipe of his hand.

"How dare you!" I laughed, swatting at his hand. He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and I found myself captivated by the joy in his smile.

As we worked, our banter and laughter filled the kitchen, the tension between us palpable. Finally, with the dough ready and toppings added, Elijah wiped his hands on a towel. "So, do you always cook?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

He shook his head, his eyes sparkling. "No, but I love it. I used to cook with my siblings all the time when my mom was home." His smile faltered for a moment, and I sensed a deeper pain beneath the surface.

"What happened?" I asked gently, hoping I wasn't prying too much.

He hesitated, his gaze drifting away. "My parents got divorced, and I had to move in with my dad."

I nodded sympathetically, sensing the unspoken emotions. "And you?" he asked, his eyes locking onto mine.

I raised an eyebrow, confusion etched on my face. "What about me?"

"Where did your love for dancing come from?" Elijah asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I smiled, memories flooding my mind. "It's always been something that came naturally to me. When my parents and brother were away, which was most of the time, I'd put on music and dance around the house. I'd dance with the girls in the neighborhood, and it just became a part of me, something I could do without thinking."

Elijah's gaze intensified, his voice softening. "You close with them? Your parents?"

I shrugged, a mix of emotions swirling inside. "Not really. I love them, but there are things that drive us apart, secrets...things that make it hard to connect."

Elijah nodded understandingly, his eyes filled with a deep empathy that made me wonder what secrets he hid behind his armor.

Just then, the oven timer went off, and I jumped up to retrieve the pizza. Elijah beat me to it, his hands grasping mine, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through me. "You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you burn yourself while I'm here," he said, his voice low and husky.

I felt a flutter in my chest as he carefully slid the pizza tray out, with gloves on his hand and onto a protective mat. While it cooled, I grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and filled them with fizzy drinks. When I turned back, Elijah had already plated the pizza and was holding out a slice, the cheese stretching enticingly.

"It's too hot, you're crazy," I protested, laughing.

Elijah blew on the slice, his breath caressing the cheese, making it glisten. He brought it to my lips, our eyes locked in a playful challenge. I chuckled, giving in, and took a bite. The flavors exploded on my tongue, our gazes still connected, the world around us melting away.

As we stepped out of the car and onto the familiar pavement, I turned to Elijah with a smile. "Thanks for tonight. I really loved it." His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he tilted his head, his hands tucked deep into his pockets.

I noticed a smudge of flour on his forehead, a remnant of our evening. I reached up, my fingers brushing against his skin as I gently removed the flour. His eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment, we stood there, connected by touch.

When he opened his eyes, they locked onto mine, piercing and intense. He took a step closer, his hands still in his pockets, as if he was struggling with himself. I could see the inner conflict in his eyes, like he was debating whether to reveal a secret.

He reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers, and pulled me closer. His other hand rose slowly, tracing a path from my hip to my waist, sending shivers down my spine.

My heart raced as he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine. I felt like I was melting into his touch, my body responding on its own. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he tilted my head to the side, his warm hand cradling my neck. And when his lips met mine, I felt like I was drowning in his embrace.

Time stood still as we lost ourselves in the kiss. I savored the taste of him, the feel of his lips, and the way our hearts beat in sync. It was like the entire world had melted away, leaving only us, lost in this moment.

As we pulled away, gasping for air, I gazed up at him, my eyes locked onto his.

"I know it's a little soon, but..." he said, his eyes locking onto mine with an adorable nervousness. "Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?" My heart skipped a beat, and I felt like I was melting into his gaze.

I nodded, my voice caught in my throat. I couldn't trust myself to speak, afraid that words would fail me. But finally, the word tumbled out: "Yes."

He let out a whoop of joy, pulling me into a tight hug that lifted me off the ground. I laughed, feeling giddy and weightless, my arms wrapped around him. As he twirled me around, my feet left the floor, and I felt like I was flying.

When he finally set me back down, I tiptoed up to kiss him, my heart racing with excitement. Our lips met, and the world around us melted away. It was just us, lost in the magic.

"See you Monday," I whispered, smiling but he twirled me back around, planting another kiss on my lips, and I felt like I was melting all over again.

Slowly he began walking backwards, towards his car, our eyes still locked until I turned around for good.

Just when I thought our dance at the gala was the best thing, this turned out to be better and I knew I wouldn't be sleeping getting much sleep tonight.