Page 117 of Should the Sky Fall

“50 First Dates? I love that one! It’s a classic.”

Finding Dawson’s excitement suspicious, he’s compelled to check, “Does it have Tatum in it?”

Dawson gives him an exasperated look. “No, you weirdo.”

Thank god.

“Come on, let’s start on the pizzas.”

Dawson wasn’t lying—it seems to be rather easy. The only tricky part is the yeast—Cal would just dump it in the bowl with the rest of the ingredients and expect it to work anyway. He had no idea that yeast needs toactivate.Once it does, and Dawson adds the rest of the ingredients, he asks Cal to take over.

Using his hands, Cal pushes the mixture around until it starts to stick together—and to his skin. It’s uncomfortable, and the slimy dough sliding between his fingers feels icky, but Dawson reassures him he’s doing it right.

“It’s in the wrist. I’ll show you.” Dawson gets one of his hands in the bowl, demonstrating the right technique. Cal struggles to pay attention to what he’s doing instead of relishing how Dawson’s hand touches his during the process. “Got it?”

“Got it,” Cal lies, disappointed when Dawson removes his hand and lets Cal take over. Dawson moves away to wash his hands, and a few seconds later, Cal hears a familiar clicking sound.

Sure enough, when he looks up, Dawson has his phone aimed at him and is grinning from ear to ear.

Heat crawls up Cal’s neck. He must look so awkward doing this. “That’s not fair.”

Dawson sticks his tongue out. “Everything’s fair in lo—uh, war.”

“I have no way to defend myself,” Cal complains.

“I know.” Dawson looks way too pleased with himself. He looks at the picture he just took, his wide grin morphs into something softer. “Do you want another picture together?”

Cal looks down at his messy hands and flour-covered shirt. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was some on his face too. “I look a mess.”

Dawson shrugs, then reaches into the container with flour and smears his fingers across his shirt and cheek. “Now I do too.”

God, Cal wants to kiss him so bad.

He gets the next best thing. Dawson steps towards him, side to side, and leans into Cal as he raises his phone, arranging it so it fits both their faces.

Yup, Cal was right. There’s flour on his nose and in his hair. He doesn’t even care. His eyes are glued to Dawson and his gorgeous smile. Cal finds himself unable to contain his own smile, his heart doing a wild little dance.

Dawson takes a picture.

He laughs when he checks it. “This is horrible. I love it.” He shows Cal, who laughs too. It is horrible, and also perfect.

“We’re framing that one.”

“And putting it up here.” Dawson pats the island.

“Yes.”

After Dawson deems Cal’s kneading satisfactory, he throws a tea towel over the bowl and leaves it on the counter. “It needs to keep warm and undisturbed for a couple of hours.”

Cal nods, filing the information away. He washes his hands and face, and wipes his shirt. It takes ages before the dough bits come off. He’s not sure he wants to do it again, even if he really enjoys it when Dawson teaches him new things.

They settle on the sofa, sitting almost shoulder to shoulder, and Dawson browses Netflix until he finds the movie.

“Is this based on a true story?” Cal wonders.

“Nah. It’s trashy, in the best way. Just roll with it.”

Cal just ‘rolls with it’. And enjoys it very much. The movie is different from the other one they watched, and Cal finds he likes it even better. There’s no Tatum, for one.