Chuckling quietly to himself, he got out some tomatoes for the sauce. "Not really, no," he replied with a small shrug, then made a show of staring at the pointy end of the knife he'd picked up to chop them. "You use this end, right? The sharp, pointy one?"

With a mischievous grin, he tossed a tomato up in the air and speared it with the knife, then studied it curiously. "Huh. I guess you do."

Going back to his cooking, he glanced over his shoulder at her from time to time. Just to see how she was doing, really. "Alright, if you really want to do something, then promise to dance with me on New Year's, and we'll call it even." It was an innocent enough suggestion, but he couldn't help feeling just a little guilty that she probably didn't know just how much he enjoyed holding her in his arms when they danced. And while he'd never have actual ulterior motives for asking her to dance, he wasn't quite able to deny himself this.