I felt the eyes of five outrageously attractive British boys on me as I lifted a fork to my mouth and chewed thoughtfully. I ignored them, especially Niall, who was shifting excitedly in his seat next to me. Rich flavors and spices exploded my pallet and my eyes widened in wonder. I looked up to see them wearing matching smug little grins.

“Well?” Zayn demanded.

“Holfdhfsovsmfrvpefovpthsgvnoisd,” I managed around an extremely large mouthful of chicken and rice.
Louis pretended to gag. “Wooow, what a pig,” he coughed. Niall slapped the back of his neck and I glared at him.

I forced a massive swallow and said, “Holy poop! This is the most amazing food ever!!” Liam and Harry laughed, Louis rolled his eyes, Zayn chuckled and Niall smiled widely at me, scooting closer. He grabbed another fork and began eating from my plate, making loud, satisfied sounds. I stared at him, shocked. No one eats my food. No one.

He glanced up at me just as I ripped the fork from his grasp and threw it across the room.

“What the fuck?!” Louis shouted, dodging out of the way just in time. Niall looked at me in disbelief and opened his mouth to question my probably insane-looking actions, but I cut him off.

“You ate from my plate,” I said as calmly as I could. I tried to appear threatening, but apparently it didn’t work because all five boys burst out in laughter, their guffaws echoing around the kitchen. I narrowed my eyes and got up from my chair, leaning over Niall as much as my short build would allow. He tilted back to meet my eyes, and had the decency to begin looking a bit frightened.

“Uh, lads?” he asked quietly, while their laughter continued. Niall finally got the silent message I was sending him: Run.

He leapt backward, his chair skidding across the linoleum, and sprinted into the next room. I was right behind him, matching him pace for pace. As his socked feet hit the wood paneling of the entryway, he slipped and landed hard on the ground, the breath knocked out of his chest. I halted and jumped on him before he could recover, my legs straddling his hips, effectively pinning him to the ground, I heard the boys running behind me, calling for Niall.

Niall lay panting, his eyes closed. His hands were on either side of my waist, having landed there to steady me when I attacked him. He slowly fluttered his eyelids open and met my angry ones. He smiled weakly, still breathing hard. I leaned down closer to him, my face only inches away from his.

“Do not ever do that again, understand?” I growled. He gulped and nodded. Someone, probably Louis, snickered.

I started to climb off of him, but his hands held my waist tighter, holding me on top of him. “Wait, aren’t you going to punish me?” he asked cheekily, with a wink. His thumbs pushed up under the hem of my shirt and I gasped at his warm touch. Zayn and Louis whistled and Harry yelled, “Get it Nialler!” while Liam attempted to quiet them.

Niall grinned up at me and I was completely taken aback. So I just shoved his hands off of me and got up, stomping back to the kitchen and resuming my meal. I heard the boys cheering for Niall as they followed me down the hall.

“Aww, is someone grumpy?” Niall teased, sitting down next to me again and throwing his arm around my shoulders. I shook it off angrily and muttered, “Piss off.”

“Bit touchy are we?” Louis mocked and I simply glowered at him. The remainder of dinner the boys joked and messed around, making fun of me and glorifying Niall for ‘winning that round’.

When we’d all finished and sat around talking, Niall glanced over at me, noticing that I was pretty quiet. “Still mad at me?” he murmured.

I tried and failed to be angry at him and he smiled triumphantly.

“You just can’t resist me,” he whispered huskily in my ear.