17~Can you take your hand off my butt?

«Arschloch!» - I shout with my bad German accent, trying to resume my equilibrium as soon as he starts laughing:

«What?» -he continues to show a smile at me, while I watch him badly.

"I've been to Germany." - I explain, returning to my seat and making sure to put the belt on well

this time.

"Do you know German?" - he seems very surprised, but I disappoint him:

"Only bad words." - I'd be intent on showing him the middle finger, while he pretends to be offended, and then stops

the car in a parking lot, without me noticing immediately.

«Get out.» - he orders, indicating me to follow him towards the big building in front of the car.

I think he took me to the supermarket of another neighborhood, but I have to admit it's really

huge.

Without paying attention to him and passing next to his body, I enter the reinforced concrete structure, excited as if

it was the first time that I do the shopping.

«Excuse me, where can I find pasta ...?» - I start asking one of the employees, but James won't let me finish and pushes with his giant hand off my shoulders and forces me to advance, until we find ourselves in front of

Italian orecchiette.

I stop suddenly, planting my feet on the ground, while he continues to advance and collides his huge solid chest with my back, making me feel gooses suddenly, but I try to hide my face and open my mouth:

"Wait!" - I exclaim, making him understand that I'm not here for a walk, but to by what I need, in fact he takes a deep breath against my back and starts talking:

"I'll wait for you outside." - he snorts with an annoyed grimace on his face, while his attention is captured by a

blonde lady who passes us and and returns his glance.

He walks away without deigning a glance at me, while I bite my tongue not to shoot another dirty word in

German.

He manages to get aroused even in a supermarket by a woman who will have at least three children.

"Oh, do you know Edward's favorite dish?" - I yell behind him as soon as I remember I'm not cooking for myself, but he doesn't bother himself to turn around to watch me

and continues to stare at the woman who precedes him.

I roll my eyes and try to get there on my own: when I told Gordon I would cook more meat and

'gnocchi' in the oven, he didn't complain so maybe I don't have to worry about the excess fat

they will find on the table.

I throw five types of pasta and my beloved ready-made gnocchi into the cart, and then go in search of other foods

alone.

Of all the dishes I've cooked so far, my favorite are American and Italian recipes, for the simple reason

that they are quick and tasty, regardless of whether they add three pounds in one day.

My mother has never cooked, as far as I can remember from my childhood, unlike my father.

He told me he learned to cook when he was at the academy and I liked from watching him prepare dinner while I used to do my homework.

It was the only time of day when he was carefree and, knowing my father, it really was

an exception.

Sometimes my mom noticed it too, so she helped him on the weekends, which is why I have

started to devote myself to cooking: I was ten, but I had already realized that food was my best friend,

the only thing capable of bringing my family together around a table.

I try to get up on tiptoe and reach the smoked cheese, but my height returns to become a

problem, so I snort and give up.

Then I look around, making sure there is no employee in sight, but as soon as I do that, I open my eyes wide when I notice that James is behind me, staring at my body with a serious expression, but as soon as I loose myself in his eyes, he resumes the annoyed face he had when he left:

"Have you finished yet?" - I dare asking and glaring at him, on the verge of throwing up imagining what he has done with the unknown woman until now.

"If you want, I'll call her back and let's do a threesome." - he adjusts his pants, while I make a disgusted face and turn my back on him again.

"What are you doing?" - I can imagine his bewildered expression, so I turn to his side,

catching him look at my backside.

"I have to get the cheese." - I indicate it with my head, but I don't have time to go up as he moves and approaches my body from being, so I open my eyes wide and stop breathing when his chest gets in contact with my shoulders again.

I look at him confused and surprised at the same time, while he stretches out behind me, intending to grab the smoked cheese, but as soon as I understand his intentions I force myself to come back to reality and push him away by placing my hands on his forearm, noticing how bulky his is

musculature.

"I do it myself." - I say in a cold tone, while he rolls his eyes and tries to hide a dirty smile on his lips.

I climb back onto the shelf and reach out the cheese, but I jump and lose my balance when I hear a voice of

reprimand behind, most likely the voice of an employee:

"Miss, you can't go up there! The shelves are made of glass! "

I let out a little scream as soon as she starts talking, loosing my balance as my foot slips, but I don't fall with my butt on the ground

thanks to James, that suddenly puts a hand under my back, lifting me up, and pulling me to his chest, in such a rapid gesture that I find myself face to face with James, who sighs into my mouth and gives me a serious look.

"Ja-James ...?" - I stammer embarrassed by our position in front of the employee that is watching us:

«Mh?» - he asks distractedly, staring at my eyes so deeply that I find the courage only to whisper close to his face:

"Can you take your hand off my butt?"

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