Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I glanced up as I placed the sauce on the burner to find that the other couples were all settling into their plates of food. The instructor’s assistant was refreshing everyone’s drink while the instructor gave each station a basket of warm bread.
“Are you ready, cooking partner?” Rome inquired as he grabbed his fork.
I nodded, too excited to even try to speak. Over the years, I’d taken two dozen cooking classes. Fiona had joined me for a few, but she didn’t enjoy cooking. The rest I’d done on my own, and I’d loved them, but I had to admit that this was the first time I would claim that I’d actually had fun. Rome had turned it into an adventure, and now I was both excited and nervous to taste what we’d made together.
After twirling some fettucine on my fork, I hesitated, watching as Rome shoved some into his mouth.
“So?” I asked.
Rome moaned loudly, his eyes rolling back into his head.
A laugh almost choked me at his antics. I shoveled my bite and hummed as the delicious combination of cream, garlic, and parmesan hit my tongue. And the fettucine. God, there was something about fresh noodles that made my toes curl. So much better than the dry stuff.
“Wow, we are such good cooks,” Rome said around another mouthful of pasta.
“The best.”
“The only thing this is missing is some shrimp.”
I grabbed some bread and dipped it into the sauce. “I was thinking grilled chicken.”
Rome grunted and nodded, barely breathing between bites.
“Um…so…this chef. He also teaches a class in making homemade cheese ravioli.” I kept my eyes firmly on my plate. “In case you were interested in learning how to make that.” After a heartbeat, I glanced up to find him watching me, a forkful of pasta hanging in the air in front of his mouth.
“Are you planning to take the class?”
“Maybe. Kind of depends on my schedule.”
Rome made a noise and filled his mouth again. I turned my attention to my half-eaten pasta.
“Well…I think it sounds cool,” Rome ventured. “I’m a big fan of cheese ravioli.”
I nodded. “I like the cheese and mushroom. Though I could figure out adding the mushroom on my own. The hard part is learning the technique for ravioli.”
“True. True.” Rome licked some sauce off his bottom lip. “If you think you’re going to do it and want a cooking partner, shoot me a message. It’s probably better if you’re not trying to do ravioli by yourself. Two sets of hands and all.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Sounds good.”
My heart fluttered, and I stuffed a large hunk of bread into my mouth to stop my awkward talking.
But…had I just made a date with my enemy?
It didn’t sound like this was part of the arrangement. While we’d never discussed it, there was a tacit agreement that each date would be different. A second cooking class wouldn’t count.
Was this hanging out?
And why was I suddenly looking forward to it so much?
11
ROME ASHBRIDGE
The cooking class date left me with mixed feelings.
I blamed the pasta for softening my heart toward the Great Betrayer. Pasta possessed a magic few understood. All I knew was that it was delicious and lowered all my defenses. Which was why I shouldn’t have shown interest in the ravioli-making class. But, come on! It was ravioli. The perfect pocket pasta holding tasty surprises while being bathed in a delicious sauce. How was I supposed to turn that down?
Still, it was looking like Liam had grown from his homophobic past and crawled out from the dangerous influence of his mother. Maybe not full acceptance, but at least “tolerance”—which I used very tongue in cheek. Much like I “tolerated” the existence of creepy spiders so long as they weren’t in my house.
I hoped I was wrong.
I hoped I was wrong about a lot of things with Liam.
He might have hurt me, but I couldn’t shake off all those years that we’d been friends. Part of me wanted that old friend back, but I was terrified to trust him.
So, I did the only thing I could think of to bridge that gap. I decided to annoy him.
Thank God for smartphones and texting.
Rome: Congrats! I heard scientists uncovered a new, incredibly smart dinosaur.
Rome: It’s called a thesaurus.
Rome: What’s a dinosaur’s favorite beverage?
Rome: A cup of Tea-Rex!
Rome: [Image: Dinosaur sitting playing a video game as a meteor rushes toward the earth. Caption: Just one more game]
Rome: Look! It’s a Procrastinator Rex!
Rome: What did they name the dinosaur with only one eye?
Rome: An EYE-Saur.
Liam: If you send me one more bad dinosaur joke, I’m going to kill you.
I snickered and shifted my joke search to terrible dad jokes. That wouldn’t be breaking his rule at all.
His frustration was palpable through the phone, which meant that I needed to fire them off as quickly as possible once I lined them up.