Chapter 50: Let Me Cook
David didn’t waste time.
David => hey. yeah i’m still up. what’s up?
He sent it before he’d even fully sat back down on the bed. Then, as an afterthought:
David => can’t sleep
The three dots appeared almost immediately. He watched them pulse, leaning forward slightly, phone tilted toward the moonlight coming through the window.
Holly => hey! i’m good. was just checking on you. wanted to say you actually did pretty well in training today 😊
David smiled before he could stop himself. The kind that creeps up on you before your face gets the memo.
David => thank you 🙏
Holly => you keep getting better every day. i don’t even know how that keeps happening but it does. anyway i was thinking... maybe tomorrow we should have other plans 😉
David stared at that last part.
The winking emoji sat there on his screen, completely unbothered, doing untold amounts of damage.
’Other plans.’
He read it again.
’Other... plans.’ With the emoji.
His heart did something small and stupid in his chest. He pressed his lips together, looked up at the ceiling for half a second, looked back down.
’Wait,’ he thought. ’Is she trying to sex chat—’
He stopped himself. Didn’t want to dart ahead, especially not if that wasn’t where this was going. Getting his hopes up over a winking emoji was the kind of thing that ended in embarrassment, and David Myers had already met his embarrassment quota for the evening.
But also.
The winking emoji.
He typed carefully.
David => other plans?
Holly => well for one it’s been a while since we had that agreement to do netflix and chill. how come you never picked that back up? 😒
David read the dissatisfied sideways emoji and felt the message underneath it clearly — she was poking at him. Playfully. The kind of poking that meant she’d noticed his absence and wanted him to know she’d noticed.
He smiled.
David => it’s not that. there’s just been a lot going on. been busy
Holly => busy with...?
He analyzed that for exactly two seconds. She was fishing. Not aggressively, but she was curious, and curious women were women whose minds you were already in.
He knew exactly what move to make here — not full mystery, not a brick wall, just enough to leave the sentence open. Let her imagination fill the rest.
David =>Mmm... just busy
A pause. Longer than the ones before it. He could picture her on the other side, reading that, deciding how to respond.
Holly => alright then
David looked at that. Felt the slight chill of it. He’d played it a touch too cool — she was pulling back, giving him a taste of his own energy. He course-corrected smoothly.
David => honestly though, i’m almost done with it. i could spare some time. how about tomorrow? you up for that netflix and chill?
Another pause. Shorter this time.
Holly => you sure you’re not gonna cancel on me? i hate being cancelled on David
David => cancel on a beauty? now why would i do that?
He sent it, leaned back, and waited with the quiet confidence of a man who knew exactly what he’d just done.
The three dots came. Went. Came back.
Holly => ...good response. Thank you btww🥲😋 😭
She’d started to say something and stopped herself. David clocked that immediately and filed it away with great personal satisfaction.
Holly => i should probably get to sleep. it’s getting late
David => Aiit, aiit.... But....I do need something from you before you go
Holly => 🙃...Hmm? what’s that?
David => send me a voice note of you saying good night
A pause.
Holly => ...why?
David => i just want to hear your voice. helps me sleep better 😌
He put the phone down on his chest and stared up at the ceiling, grinning privately at nothing. Nobody was watching. He allowed himself the full, unfiltered expression.
’Let me cook.’
Holly => david 💀 are you serious rn
David => do i sound like i’m playing? come on. i want to sleep like a baby tonight. i need to hear your voice to do that
Holly => ...
Holly => you are so 😭😭
The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Then — the small microphone icon. The waveform. Two seconds long.
David sat up.
’Let me cook...’
He pressed play.
"Good night, David."
Her voice. Soft, slightly laughing at herself for actually doing it, a little self-conscious in the best way.
David sat there in the dark for a moment, phone in hand, room quiet around him, and let out a single breath through his nose.
’LET ME COOK!’ he thought.
He typed back.
David => 😊
Holly => 😊🫣
David => good night Holly.
He dropped the phone onto the mattress, fell back against his pillow, and spread his arms wide like a man receiving a standing ovation from an empty room.
"Look at me," he said to the ceiling, laughing quietly. "Look at me and tell me I don’t have game."
The ceiling offered no rebuttal.
He lay there a moment, just sitting with it — the warmth of it, the small ridiculous victory of it — and then he turned onto his side.
’Netflix and chill with Holly tomorrow.’
He smiled once more into the dark.
’Alright then. Let’s see how that goes... hehe... good thing I didn’t reply her with a sext. That would have gone wrong in so many ways.’
***
Sleep worked differently for David now. Most people needed a solid eight hours to feel human again — he’d managed four, midnight to four, and woken with none of the grogginess that used to keep him pinned to the mattress on bad days.
He didn’t question it too hard. He’d learned, over the past week, that questioning every strange new efficiency his body handed him just slowed down the actual work of using it.
He rolled off the mattress in the dark, dropped into position on the floor, and worked through his reps by feel — push-ups first, the burn settling into his shoulders in a way that had started to feel almost familiar, then sit-ups until his stomach screamed loud enough that he counted it as done. But soon, all the aches vanished with the aid of virgin touch.
By six, gray light was creeping in through the curtain, and he laced up his sneakers and stepped out for a loop around the block, keeping the radius tight.
Not out of caution exactly — more the quiet, practical logic of a man who’d learned the hard way what happened when trouble showed up somewhere he couldn’t outrun back to safety.
The rest of the day folded into a rhythm that no longer felt foreign. Shower, gym, Mrs. Walbury’s morning session bleeding into her afternoon martial art one, and then, as the light started slanting gold through the training room windows, then came Holly’s time.
