A/N: I have edited this from the original that was posted to (hopefully) fix all of the grammatical errors and to change the story very slightly. If you still find any mistakes, I apologize.

Thanks for reading!

Enjoy!

Katniss

The beam of early morning light filtered in through the opening in the curtains and landed directly across both of her closed eyelids. She groaned and tried to turn away from the unwelcomed light threatening to disturb the alcohol induced sleep coma she had been in. She cracked an eyelid hissing at the offending brightness of the morning sun. There was a heavy weight across her middle blocking her attempts to move. The weight was an arm and that arm was attached to a man in her bed; a naked man. Looking down she saw that she was also naked, and snippets of the night before started to work their way back into her consciousness.

"Shit," she muttered to herself, scrubbing the grit of sleep from her eyes. What the hell was his name? It was something ridiculous, that much she was sure of. It had been something like magical, miraculous, marvelous…Marvel, that's it! She scoffed under her breath and rolled her eyes. He had been anything but a marvel. With a name like that his parents must have had high hopes for him when he was born. Or, it had to be some stupid nickname that he thought made him sound intriguing or sexy. While she admitted that he wasn't bad looking, he was definitely not someone she would have chosen to bring home if she were sober and absolutely not the first night she met him. She was lonely and had too much to drink. He was available and kept plying her with more alcohol and sleazy pick-up lines. She needed to get him out of her room and her apartment. She needed a very large coffee, a shower and some alone time.

She gently lifted his arm and rolled out from under it, letting it drop back down on the mattress with a dull thud. He didn't even move. The only thing that confirmed he wasn't dead was the sound of his snore that occasionally drifted out from the pillow his head was buried under. Grabbing her robe and securing it tightly around her, she walked to the other side of the bed and cringed at the bare leg and naked ass hanging out from under her favorite comforter. She made a mental note to wash the bed clothes after he was gone. Using her toes, she gently placed her foot on the offending butt cheek and gave her one night stand a firm shake to wake him up. He thrashed and mumbled incoherently, but finally crawled out from under the pillow blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes to the light.

"Hey…. gorgeous," he said. She watched him struggle as he desperately tried to remember her name.

"Good morning," she replied as she tossed his shirt and underwear on his chest. "Um…I need to get ready to head into work soon. Do you have someplace that you need to be?" While she didn't actually have to be to work for several hours, she was trying to be as tactful as possible while asking him to leave.

"You sure you don't want to dive in for seconds?" He pulled the comforter back, taking his erection in hand and wiggling his eyebrows to her suggestively.

She swallowed the groan threatening to burst from her throat and mentally scolded herself for being so impulsive and stupid. "I think I'm going to have to pass."

"C'mon babe," he reached up and grabbed the tie of her robe, "you couldn't get enough of this dick last night."

"I said no. Now, I need you to leave…please." She could feel her face getting flushed at the irritation of the predicament she put herself in. She was never drinking again. She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath before she snatched the tie of the robe out of his hands, handed him his jeans and motioned towards the door. As Marvel walked out of her front door, he turned and pinched her nipple through her robe and said, "You just send daddy a text when you're feeling thirsty. I'm sure I can make it wet enough to quench that thirst." Then, he disappeared down the stairs leaving her standing in the doorway with her mouth hanging open and her fists balled in furious rage at her sides.

District 12 was a popular bar run by Katniss' uncle, Haymitch Abernathy. Haymitch wasn't her uncle in the biological sense. He had been her father's best friend and when her mother and father died in a car accident shortly after her 11th birthday, Haymitch stepped in as the parental figure for both Katniss and her younger sister Primrose. District 12 became a reality after Haymitch's home brewed beer, The Hob, grew in popularity throughout their small town followed by the nearby city and the entire state. He used the funds from his microbrewery to open the bar five years ago, which he was now refurbishing into a gastropub due to the growing demand for more than just drinks from his patrons. This is why Katniss was sitting in her car outside the bar at 10am on a Sunday. She nursed the iced coffee in her hands, bringing it up to her temples to try and calm the pounding in her head.

"Sweetheart! I can see you sitting in there. Get your ass out of the car and come help."

Haymitch stood in the doorway of the bar with a stained dishtowel thrown over his shoulder and sweat glistening on his brow. He had been throwing everything he had into this renovation and Katniss worried about him. Not only was he getting up there in age, but he was also a functioning alcoholic. He tried to keep it hidden but it really was one of the worst kept secrets in town. Katniss pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose and stepped out of her car, still keeping a death grip on the coffee. It was mid-July and nearly 95 degrees even this early in the day. She was sure the humidity was at about 500%. Beads of sweat were already forming in her hairline.

Haymitch let out a low whistle as he sized her up. "You look like shit. Rough night?"

"And, a rough morning. Please don't ask," she said, shaking her head at the questioning look on his face.

She brushed passed him as he playfully tugged on the braid hanging over her shoulder and made her way to her favorite seat at the end of the long, mahogany bar. The cool wood felt good against her cheek as she laid her face down and closed her eyes. Haymitch pulled the sunglasses off her face and set a glass of water and two aspirin in front of her.

"Drink up. You're absolutely no good to me in your current state. I have our new chef coming in today and I need your help restocking the bar and finishing the painting in the back. If it helps, I can get you a shot. Hair of the dog and all that."

She tossed the pills in her mouth and gulped down all the water greedily. She was so thirsty and sure she had never felt this bad of a hangover. Haymitch reached for a bottle of tequila, her favorite, and a shot glass. She shook her head which caused her temples to throb violently. "No! No, more alcohol ever. Never, ever again."

Haymitch just chuckled to himself while putting the liquor and glass away. "So, what caused the bender last night?" he asked.

She sighed. "I was perfectly fine all day yesterday and then I got home and got all in my head thinking about mom and dad and Prim and…just everything. So, I called Johanna to see if she wanted to go out just for one drink." Haymitch gave her a pointed look. "I know, I know. Jo is never just a 'one drink' kind of person. I was asking for trouble. I know that now."

"Well, did you at least have fun?"

"Parts of it were fun. Other parts, not so much." She could see Haymitch itching to get more details. He thrived on helping people deal with their drama or just listening to them talk. He's probably the most popular part of District 12 and definitely one of the reasons they have so many return customers, but she had no plans on reliving the horror of that morning. "So, who's this new chef?" she asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Some kid fresh out of culinary school. He's a damn good cook and he can make all that frilly shit people are wanting to eat while still making sure the food fits with the bar. You might know him. I think he went to school with you."

"There were a lot of people in my school, Haymitch, and I wasn't exactly a social butterfly. What's his name?"

He grabbed the resume file from under the bar and opened it quickly, "Peeta Mellark."

Katniss' stomach dropped to the ground. Of all the people who could come back into her life, Peeta Mellark was one that she thought she would never see again. He had the mix of good looks, athletic ability and charm that made him extremely popular in school. He was always surrounded by a group of people and she remembered watching them laugh and have fun. There were many days that her life was bleak and hard, despite Haymitch's best efforts, and watching him with his friends and all of their apparent sunny happiness seemed like such a stark contrast to her reality. She remembered feeling that pit in her stomach anytime she saw a pretty, popular, bubbly girl hanging on him, her arms around his waist, fingers in his wavy blonde hair or her lips on his. She had maybe spoken five words to him in her entire life, but she was adult and secure enough now to admit that what she felt in high school was definitely jealousy. She'd had a crush on Peeta Mellark. But, then again, who didn't. She had been so lost in her thoughts she didn't realize Haymitch was still talking.

"Who even names their kid Peeta, anyway? What kind of name is that? I wonder if he goes by a nickname or a middle name. I'll have to ask him."

"What kind of name is Haymitch? Or, Katniss for that matter?" Haymitch's eyebrows shot up at her outburst. "His father owned a bakery and named all of his sons after breads," she said, surprising herself and him with this detailed personal information. "Peeta was named after Pita bread, but his father thought he would be clever with the spelling so that he could be called Peet as a nickname instead of Pit…or…that's what I heard him tell someone once."

"Aha! So, you do know him!"

"No, not really. I mean…everyone we went to school with probably knows of him, but I'm sure he doesn't remember me at all," she said in a rush, her cheeks darkening slightly with embarrassment.

"Well, we'll just have to ask Peeta," he emphasized the name as a playful dig at Katniss' awkward bashfulness, "when he gets here."

"Ask me what?" a male voice asked behind her.

She turned and there he was. He wasn't very tall, maybe just a few inches taller than her, but he had a stocky, well-built frame. His hair was a little longer than she remembered and curled haphazardly across his forehead. His eyes were still a brilliant sapphire blue. It was a color she could never forget. She had never seen anything like it before or since. Even after six years, her heart still began to beat a little faster at the sight of him. She felt 17 all over again, self-conscious and shy and a little annoyed at herself for feeling this way. Then she remembered that she looked like hungover death and the feelings magnified tenfold. She unconsciously brought her hand up to straighten the flyaway wisps of hair that had escaped her braid in the humidity and heat and crinkled her nose slightly as she glanced down at her choice of an outfit. Haymitch looked on with a thoroughly amused smirk playing across his lips.

"Well, Miss 'Too Many Tequila Shots' here," Haymitch said, jerking his thumb towards Katniss, "was saying you probably didn't remember her at all."

Katniss groaned at the reference to her night of debauchery and briefly considered crawling under the barstool and willing the floor to swallow her up.

"Hey, Katniss. It's good to see you again," Peeta said shyly, ducking his head a bit. His lips pulled up in a crooked smiled that charmed her instantly and she thought she saw the beginnings of a blush forming on his cheeks. But, it was probably just from the heat. It was immensely hot in the bar all of a sudden. She took another long drink of her iced coffee.

The day ended up not being as terrible as she had imagined it would be. Peeta mostly kept to himself cleaning and setting up the newly remodeled kitchen. He was a lot quieter than she'd thought he would be although she did catch him chuckling at one or two of the things said in the banter between Haymitch and herself. She liked the sound of that chuckle and was sure that hearing a full bellied laugh from him would be quite a thing to behold. Near the end of the day, after she and Haymitch had restocked the bar, cleaned and decided – after a lengthy argument – about the placement of the tables in the now much larger dining area, Peeta joined them to help finish up the painting. Haymitch had decided on a deep forest green, which she loved and thought complimented the dark wood nicely. It'd made her think of her childhood spent with her father in the woods. It really was her favorite color and she said as much to both of them. Peeta's eyes watched her thoughtfully as she spoke, a small smile pulled up the corners of his mouth. His lips were full, but not obnoxiously so. She wondered how many lucky girls had had the chance to see what those lips felt like when pressed to their own.

"Doesn't really surprise me much, sweetheart," Haymitch said pulling her away from her preoccupation with Peeta's mouth. "You always did love the trees and the fields." His eyes went dark for just a moment and she'd known he was thinking of her father, but he'd known better than to say anything out loud. "So, boy," he continued turning towards Peeta, "Katniss has shared the deep details of her favorite color, what's yours?"

Peeta seemed shocked for a moment to be included into the conversation, but that was quickly replaced with an easy smile as he replied, "Orange."

"Orange? Like traffic cones?" she said, her nose wrinkled up in mild disgust.

He laughed and shook his head lightly as if to concede that particular orange would be the one that most people would think of. "No, not that bright. Softer, like the pale orange of a sunset."

Katniss stared at him for just a moment, the paint roller raised in mid-stroke and her mouth hanging open like a fish on a hook before she nodded her head and directed her eyes and mind back to the task at hand. She clamped her jaw shut. What was wrong with her? She never acted like this with people, especially men. In general, with the exception of Haymitch and her best friend Gale, she only really associated with men when the lonely need in her got too great. Then she would seek them out, but only for a little while until that need was fulfilled. After, she would be done and that would be the end of that. It was cold and probably a little cruel, but she had no need for relationships or romantic love in her life. She remembered the love between her mother and father. It was so powerful and so great that she didn't think anything else could match it. She watched that love disappear when they did, and the devastation it left inside of her was not something she was willing to risk feeling with another person. She already had so much love for Prim that it frightened her, and she would often wake up from nightmares of losing her sister too. So, she needed to stop looking at Peeta, with his shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes and crooked smile and toned arms that flexed in just the right way as he rolled the paint across the blank walls. Yes, she definitely needed to stop looking.

As they were preparing to leave and Katniss was already dreaming about just how much cheese would be on the pizza she planned on ordering when she got home, Peeta stated that he had come up with what he thought would be a pretty cohesive menu and wondered if either of them would be willing to do a taste testing sometime this week before he went over it with the kitchen staff and they officially reopened the bar. Katniss' stomach decided, embarrassingly, to pick that exact moment to grumble very loudly. Haymitch guffawed.

"Well, boy, I guess that answers that question for you. Honestly, she's been my judge on food for years and she has keys to this place, so I'll leave her to it. You kids make the decisions and send me the menu mockup on Thursday." He looked pointedly at both of them. "Thursday and not a day before. I'm going to take a much deserved few days off before the chaos begins again and I don't want to be bothered." He shook Peeta's hand and tugged on Katniss' braid before hopping into his old truck and driving off, leaving them both standing awkwardly on the sidewalk.

Peeta shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and Katniss cleared her throat. She couldn't have imagined anything more awkward then dinner alone with him. She dreaded it even though a small part in the back recesses of her mind lit up with something that seemed like excitement. Peeta ran his hand through his curls, causing them to stand even more on end. She bit her lip to keep a smile that threatened to spread across her face at bay. He rubbed the back of his neck and reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a phone, unlocking it and handing it to her. She looked up at him quizzically.

"Can I…um, can I have your number?" he asked. "You know, to contact you about the tasting?" He seemed flustered and chuckled quietly as he tried to hide the embarrassment she could see blazing pink across his cheeks.

She agreed, also blushing, and quickly entered her number in his contacts. She fumbled as she handed the phone back to him. A slight tremble had found its way to her hands. She shoved them in her pockets. A few seconds later she felt her own phone vibrate as he sent her text.

"Well, this is me," he said, hooking his thumb towards a black Jeep. "It really is great to see you again, Katniss. Kind of blowing my mind a little bit, but definitely great."

She hesitated as she processed this information. Blowing his mind? Her? Her palms felt sweaty all of the sudden and her heart was raced while she tried to keep up with the thoughts that swirled around in her head.

"Thanks, Peeta. Just text me with the info on the tasting." It came out more clipped and brusque than she had intended, and she cringed slightly before adding, "It was really great to see you again too."

He nodded his head, smiled that easy, crooked smile and turned to get into his Jeep and drive away. Once enclosed in her own car, she leaned her forehead on the steering wheel and inhaled a deep, steading breath, releasing it slowly. That helped. She just needed to call the pizza place, then turn up the radio and drive home with the windows down. She unlocked her phone and swiped the notification to open Peeta's text in order to add him to her contact list. She slowly cocked her head to the side in confusion as she read the text.

Hey. This is Peeta. You know, that dorky kid who had a crush on you in school :)

WHAT?! He had to have been making a lighthearted joke, trying to ease the tension they had found themselves in standing on that sidewalk. There was no possible way he had a crush on her. They never even spoke to each other in school. He barely made eye contact with her in passing and he was always surrounded by pretty, shapely, popular girls. Girls with silky, beautiful hair in vibrant shades that flowed easily across their shoulders and down their backs. Girls with smooth hands and manicured fingernails that had never seen manual labor. Girls with long legs, full hips and round breasts. Girls who could easily carry on a conversation and laugh freely with their higher pitched, singsong voices. Girls that were everything that she wasn't.

She stared at the words on the screen for several minutes. She didn't know how to respond or if she should even respond. The mental back and forth was draining and she was already tired and hungry, not to mention still ridiculously hungover. Finally, she decided that to just ignore it would be the best way to proceed.

Hey. I'm free Tuesday and Wednesday for the tasting if that works for you. Let me know.

She quickly dialed her favorite pizzeria. She placed her order, pocketed her phone and headed home. She needed food, Netflix and a shower. She really needed to stop thinking about Peeta Mellark, but she didn't think that was going to be such an easy thing to do.

They decided to meet on Tuesday night in order to give Peeta a full day to finalize the menu before presenting it to Haymitch for printing. This gave Katniss almost 48 hours to work out dozens of scenarios in which this meal alone with Peeta would end in absolute disaster. She would inevitably say or do something that would send him running for the door and they would be out a chef. Haymitch would be furious. She'd have to find another job and another apartment because she wouldn't be able to afford this one without the tips she made working at District 12. And Prim…Prim would have to leave her Ivy League school that Haymitch was able to help fund only due to the popularity of The Hob and the bar.

It was nearly noon on Tuesday and Katniss was still lying face down on her bed. She had stayed up too late the night before unable to turn her mind off as she dreaded this day alone with Peeta. She was usually such an early riser. She had been since her parents had died and she had to be up early enough to get both Prim and herself ready for school, which included packing lunches and getting something out to make for dinner. Haymitch tried, he really did, but he was shit when it came to basic household necessities like cooking and cleaning. So, these responsibilities fell on Katniss' small 11-year-old shoulders and she did them every day without complaint. She had a strong determination to give Prim the best life she could despite everything that had happened, and Katniss was strong willed and stubborn to a fault. Once she had decided that Prim deserved every opportunity life offered, she worked to the bone to give her those opportunities. Now, her baby sister was in one of the country's top schools studying to be a doctor. There were times, on exceptionally bad days, when Katniss would wallow in the current state of her life. She was 24, terminally single, living in a tiny apartment. She barely passed high school, although that had nothing to do with her intelligence and more to do with the lack of time she had available to study. She was a server in a bar with no real prospects of achieving anything more in life. But, on those days, thinking of everything Prim was achieving and experiencing would lessen the sting. She would gladly give up anything to make sure Prim had everything.

She groaned and rolled out of bed, walking the short distance to her kitchen/bathroom to make coffee. Leaning against the counter with a steaming mug, she pulled her phone out to see texts from both Gale and Jo. She had talked to them both earlier, hoping to solicit some honest and real advice on Peeta.

Jo: He sounds hot af! You better tap that and then give me deets. Don't be a pussy, brainless!

Gale: You're probably overthinking Catnip. You ALWAYS do.

She sighed. Jo's response didn't really surprise her, she was never the type to wax sentimental and honestly believed all problems could be resolved with sex. Gale's rang more true. She did always overthink things, almost to a point of blinding herself to the obvious. If this was the case, then the most obvious answer was that Peeta was just a nice guy who was also very attractive, and Katniss was lonely, so she was seeing more into it than was really there. She just needed to get out of her own head. She squared her shoulders resolutely. She was a grown woman. She wasn't some awkward teenager anymore. She had a life, albeit not an amazing life, that she had worked hard to build. She had nothing to feel insecure about.

She was twenty minutes late. In all of her earlier bravado, she still stood in the doorway of her closet unsure of what exactly to wear. Was this just a business meeting? Was this sort of like a date? Should she just wear her casual everyday clothes or make a little more effort? In the end, she chose the 'more effort' route and then scoffed at her reflection in the mirror. She threw on a pair of skinny jeans, one of her favorite dark gray t-shirts, and her most comfortable boots. She pulled her hair into its normal braid and at the last minute decided to add some mascara and nude lip gloss, although she rolled her eyes at herself as she did it.

Peeta was waiting outside District 12's front door when she pulled up. He leaned idly against the brick wall, a black messenger bag at his feet and a notebook and pencil in his hands. His hand moved quickly over the page and his brow furrowed in concentration. He didn't hear her get out of her car or approach and she took a second to watch him. Even with the concentration visible on his face, he looked at peace, a small smile on his lips and light in his eyes. She cleared her throat and his head shot up, the smile growing large and bright. She couldn't help but smile back and hoped that it didn't come off looking as strained as it felt.

"I'm sorry I'm late. There was…traffic," she lied.

He cocked his head slightly to the side as if he didn't believe her, but let it go, the smile never disappearing. "I didn't mind and you're not really that late anyway. Sometimes it's nice to get a couple minutes to yourself that you're not expecting."

Her eyes shifted to the notebook in his hands, but he closed it quickly before she is able to see what he had been working on and stuffed it in his bag. She unlocked the door and they both entered the dark empty bar. She always thought it looked so strange empty, all the chairs and barstools flipped upside down on the tables, their footsteps echoing off the walls. Standing in the space without all the chatter and noise and bodies made her feel small and intensely alone. She shivered. Peeta's hand touched her shoulder gently sending a wave of warmth through her.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

She shook her head ducking away from his touch as she headed towards the kitchen. "So, you ready to show me this amazing menu?" she called back to him.

"I don't know about amazing, but I'll do my best. I hope you brought your appetite."

She smirked. "I always bring my appetite. Food and I have a very close relationship. Don't let his small body fool you. I can eat with the best of them."

He shook his head and laughed, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. "Challenge accepted," he said with a wink.

He set to work and soon the kitchen was filled with the most delicious smells. Katniss' mouth watered, and her stomach grumbled its consent. In all of the preparation and worry, she had forgotten to eat anything and now she was absolutely starving. She was perched on the edge of a butcher block table located in the back of the kitchen, nursing a cold beer and watching Peeta work. He had removed the dark blue button down he had arrived in and replaced it with a black chef's jacket that had the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He chattered on while he cooked, talking about ingredients and farm markets and cooking techniques. She nodded her head trying desperately to pay attention but failing miserably. The amount of energy he put into his cooking and the heat of the kitchen had caused him to begin to sweat and she watched with rapt attention as a bead of sweat slid behind his ear and over the tendons of his neck to his back. The ends of his hair curled with the heat and the moisture and she had a sudden, overwhelming desire to run her hands through it. She clenched the table with her free hand to counteract this, all the while mentally reprimanding herself for feeling this way. What was it about him that made her react like this?

He had continued speaking, oblivious to her open gawking and she realized that he must have asked her a question because he had turned towards her, hands still in a bowl of greens, with gentle, friendly eyes awaiting an answer. Shit. She had stopped paying attention to his words at least five minutes ago and had no clue what he had asked.

"I'm…um…I'm sorry?" she stuttered, lifting the beer to her lips in an attempt to cover her embarrassment.

"I was just curious if you still spent any time with anyone from school."

"Just Gale."

"Oh," he said with a quick nod of his head like he was agreeing with some question she wasn't aware of. His eyes returned to his work and he was quiet again. She didn't understand the change in his behavior and desperately searched for something to say to elevate the tension that had replaced their relaxed conversation.

"Well, I also spend time…"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

They spoke over each other then stopped. A laugh escaped her lips and the easy smile returned to his. He nodded in her direction letting her start again.

"I was just going to say that I also spend time with Madge still too. It's almost hard not to if I want to see Gale nowadays." He looked up from the workstation, eyebrows raised in question. "Oh! They got married in September. I thought you knew! Your brother, Rye, was at the ceremony."

Peeta's eyes dropped back down to his work again and he shook his head. "No. I…I haven't spoken to Rye in…in a while."

There was a story here that she was missing. The Mellark brothers had always seemed close, so for Peeta to say he hadn't spoken to his brother meant that something had happened. She was curious but didn't want to pry into things that had nothing to do with her. Now that she thought about it, Peeta and his oldest brother hadn't been at the wedding even though his parents and Rye were there. Since Madge was the Mayor's daughter, the entire town had been invited. Katniss hadn't noticed Peeta's absence at the time, but he had moved away very soon after graduation, so it wasn't all that unusual that he wouldn't have been in attendance. However, it was odd that he was completely in the dark about Gale and Madge being married or together at all.

She sipped her beer again, clearing her throat and searching for something to say to change the topic. She was horrible at saying things and wished she could erase the last ten minutes of time away. They had been having a surprisingly good time. Peeta was a born conversationalist and she found herself answering most of his questions with ease and being interested in what he had to say, when she wasn't ogling him, of course. It wasn't really a surprise to her when he was the one who broke the awkward silence by carrying a tray full of plates to the table and stating, with a wink, "Who's hungry?"

Peeta had made an assortment of dishes. He wasn't kidding about bringing a big appetite. There was a burger and several different types of sandwiches, short ribs, different types of salads, cooked vegetables in light tempura batter, fish dishes and pasta dishes. He motioned for her to eat and turned to head back to the workstation.

"Wait! Aren't you going to eat too?" she asked, her hand coming up to cover her mouth full of food.

"I will. I just have to put the finishing touches on these desserts."

Desserts too?! She didn't know how she was going to eat everything that was laid out for her, but whatever he was working on smelled heavenly and she wanted to make sure she had room to at least taste it. Overwhelmed by the choices, the smells and the plating, she decided to try a small sample of everything rather than trying to eat each plate in its entirety. Peeta rejoined her and he nibbled at some of the dishes while watching her as she ate. She moaned almost comically when she bit into his grilled cheese sandwich. She had never tasted anything like it. There was a type of cheese she hadn't tasted before and some sort of bacon sauce and maybe…basil? She loved cheese. She remembered visiting the Mellark bakery as a kid with her dad and he would get cheese buns to take home for dinner. They were her favorite, until she tasted this grilled cheese.

She looked up, embarrassed by her vocal approval of the food, but Peeta was staring at her with a look of pure awe and amazement on his face. His cheeks were a little pink and she didn't know if that was due to the heat or something else.

"This," she said waving the sandwich in her hand, "is amazing. Is this bacon and basil?"

His cheeks grew a dark shade of red at the compliment. "Yes, it's bacon jam and basil. There's also monterey jack and gruyere cheese."

"Amazing. Truly, Peeta, everything here is so good. People will absolutely love it. I say yes to everything. I'll have to talk to Haymitch and see if we can maybe think up a few new cocktails that we can pair with some of the dishes too."

"Don't forget dessert," he said while moving to retrieve the dishes. "There's only two, but I figured that there didn't need to be a huge dessert list for a pub atmosphere."

He placed a warm bread pudding filled with apples, bourbon and caramel on the table, also adding a chocolate cake made with 12 thin layers that had chocolate mousse in between and fudge icing dripping from the top. Katniss felt herself starting to tear up a little at all of this wonderful food, the desserts in particular. There was a time not too long ago when she and Prim existed on bologna sandwiches and boxed mac and cheese. Haymitch worked long hours when both girls were young and Katniss, being barely old enough to cook, picked things to make that were simple and cheap to buy. So, seeing this rich, decadent food made with such skill and obvious care, overwhelmed her nearly to tears. She sucked these tears back. People don't see her cry. She hadn't cried in years.

The desserts tasted as good as they looked, and she leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her face, once she's finished. Peeta rose and began clearing the dishes and cleaning, shooing her away when she tried to help. She watched him as he moved methodically from station to station, rinsing the dishes and placing them in the industrial washer. She'd never met a man like him before and she felt as drawn to his presence as she did when she was a teenager. She assumed back then that everyone felt that way about Peeta, and maybe they did. He just had that way about him but sitting in the kitchen watching him finish his work, she wondered if maybe the insistent pull she feels towards him might not be just because he has that effect on people. Maybe, this feeling was meant only for her. Maybe he felt something similar towards her too.

She shook her head, scolding herself for her ridiculous thoughts. He couldn't possibly think that way about her. He probably has some incredibly beautiful girlfriend or fiancée, like all of the girls that used to hang on him in school. A girl who loves his cooking and fuels his ambitions. A girl that jumps into his strong arms when she sees him and runs her fingers through his unruly hair, placing gentle kisses along his strong jaw then claiming those pink lips. They probably make love to each other, holding on desperately in the night, and wake up in the morning happy, content and so in love. A sigh escaped her lips. Stop it Katniss she thought. She knew she was just lonely. That's all it was. She thought that maybe should get a cat.

"So, I'll get the menu completely nailed down and drop it off at Haymitch's on Thursday," Peeta said, picking up his messenger bag and startling her out of her reverie.

Nodding in agreement, she checked the time on her phone. Only 9:30PM. She didn't feel like going back to her empty apartment just yet, but it was a Tuesday night, what else was there to do? Maybe she could call Jo and see if she wanted to come over and watch a movie with her. No, that wouldn't work. Jo, left to visit her family yesterday. This renovation had given all of the servers and bartenders more downtime then they were used to, and Johanna was one of the best bartenders around.

"Well, um…ok, then. Thank you again for the wonderful food," she said, stuffing the phone into her back pocket and leading the way out of the kitchen to the front door. Peeta followed her out onto the sidewalk and waited as she locked the door. He shifted anxiously beside her. She could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes as he debated with himself over what to say next.

"Would you like to go someplace with me," he asked in a breathless rush.

"Yes," she replied immediately.

His black Jeep pulled into an overgrown dirt pathway, the headlights shining on an old rusty mailbox labeled "Trinket." They had been riding in companionable silence for nearly a half an hour, but the curiosity was overwhelming her, and she couldn't help it when she asked, "Where are we going?"

"My favorite place. I haven't been here since I was a kid. This land belongs to my mother's family. Trinket is my aunt's married name. She lived here until her husband died. She still owns the property though and she wouldn't mind if we visited."

Katniss raised her eyebrows skeptically. She knew about Peeta's mother, or at least what the rumors had told her. All three of the Mellark boys had been prone to showing up to school with black eyes, bruises and scars. These could and would be easily explained away by their mother who told people that the boys played too rough or that working in a bakery meant you got the occasional burn scar. All of these things had the probability of being true and no one ever questioned her, but whispered rumors were still murmured about how she ruled her home with an iron fist and was never afraid to bring that fist down on one of her sons.

Peeta smiled at her expression, a throaty chuckle escaping. "Trust me, Katniss. She wouldn't mind. She would welcome it probably. I bet no one has even been out here since she left."

"I trust you." The words had left her without hesitation and she clamped her mouth closed. She barely knew him, but just being with him made her feel safer than she had felt in so long. He steered the Jeep down the bumpy path, past a shuttered, forgotten two story white house with a wraparound porch, past an old clapboard work shed and into the trees. She rolled the window down letting the smell of the woods envelope her. She hadn't visited the woods much, not since her parents died. It was the special place her father took her. Where he taught her about silence, stealth and patience. Beneath the canopy of leaves she felt like she could breathe again, and she did, taking in a deep, cleansing breath and letting it out slowly. She closed her eyes, blocking out everything, all of the pain and the loneliness, all of the mistakes she has made and everything she has given up or lost. It all disappeared until there was nothing left but her and the trees.

The Jeep rolled to a slow stop and she opened her eyes. They were parked on the bank of a beautiful lake. The water rippled and shimmered in the moonlight. Without thinking, she opened the car door and stepped out onto the soft ground. She found some large, flat rocks near the water's edge and sat down. Peeta joined her. They were silent for a while, enjoying the warm summer air, the water's sparkling surface and the closeness of each other.

"This is…I don't even have words to describe it. Thank you, Peeta," she whispered.

She turned to look at him and he was watching her so carefully, studying her almost and she could tell he was paying attention to everything. He saw all of the little details, all the flaws and imperfections. It would be unnerving if it were someone else, but strangely, with him it had the opposite effect. It calmed her and grounded her to the moment.

"Beautiful," he murmured before catching himself and turning away.

Even in the darkness, she could see the color flooding his light skin.

"I remember," he began, staring out at the lake, "the first time I saw you. Your hair was in two braids instead of one and you were wearing this red plaid dress. You stuck out to me because you didn't look like anyone in my family. We were all blonde with blue eyes and fair skin and you were dark in the loveliest way. I remember you looked right at me and even at that young age, I was transfixed by your eyes. I had never seen that color before. Then, you sang, and I was sure you were an angel. I ran home to tell my parents and my brothers that I had seen an angel and they laughed at me. My mother, she…punished me for making up stories and lying."

He paused, turning to look at her. His eyes shone with emotion and sheepishness. "I hope you don't think I'm creepy. I just needed to tell you that I remember you. You are the first thing I remember seeing and being struck by its beauty and I wanted to share this," he gestured to the lake, "with you because it's beautiful too."

She didn't know what to say. She wanted to protest and tell him she wasn't beautiful, but doing that would ruin this moment, ruin the truth that he had just laid bare to her. The only thing she could think to say was, "Thank you." She was thankful for the moment, thankful for the spectacular lake and the drive through the trees, thankful for the serenity he offered and for making her feel as beautiful as his description.

With a deep sigh, he rose to his feet, reaching out a hand to her. "We should probably go." She nodded in agreement, reached for his hand and gasped at the spark of electricity that coursed through her at his touch. Walking back to the Jeep with her hand clasped firmly in his, she had the sudden urge to grab him and pull his lips to hers. To take him back to her small apartment and have her way with him, only to dismiss him in the morning like she always did. But, underneath that urge she felt another desire growing, a deeper and more meaningful longing. She wanted to do something she hadn't done before. She wanted to take her time and watch and wait. She wanted to see how this unfolded. She wanted to feel the longing, the want to have him until it set her on fire. And, then, if he felt it too, they could burn together and maybe light up each other's worlds.