about my diagnosis.
“Is that why my kitchen looks like a tornado went through it?” he asks, looking around the room. I nod coyly and he smiles in return. “Glad to know that hasn’t changed.”
Cocking my head, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“You,” he says, waving his hand in my direction. “Anytime you were upset—about anything—you wanted to be in the kitchen. It didn’t matter what it was, and it didn’t matter what you were making, you had to be in here.”
I slide my hands down the front of my apron. “Well, you’re right. That hasn’t changed.” We stand there staring at each other, and I can’t help but wonder what all hasn’t changed with him. In the past, when Levi was upset, he liked to be with me, and it didn’t matter what we did as long as we were together. I wonder what he does now when he’s upset.
“What are you making?” He halts our trip down memory lane and strides over to the pot that’s sizzling and popping on the stove.
I follow him, noticing that he doesn’t look quite as rumpled today as he did the other day. “You look better today,” I say, the words just falling from my mouth.
“Did I look bad the other day?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“No, you just looked stressed.”
“Mason and I have had some things going on with the business,” he says with a shrug, as if it’s not a big deal.
“Careful. It’ll spit at you,” I warn when he gets too close to the bubbling pot.
“What is it?” he asks, peering over the edge from a safe distance. They’ve been in long enough, so I pull the fried dough from the oil, one by one, and place them on a cooling rack. Picking one up, I bounce it from hand to hand, blowing on it to cool it down so it won’t burn his mouth.
“Here.” I hold the tiny chunk of heaven in my hand and Levi takes it. “Take a bite.” I grin, excited for him to try what I’ve made. He doesn’t hesitate and I watch as he bites into the crunchy layer, his eyes instantly rolling back into his head.
“Oh my God,” he moans around the food in his mouth. “This is amazing.” I pop a bite into my mouth and smile as he asks, “Can I have another one?”
I cover my mouth so he doesn’t see my half-eaten food when I answer him. “Please. Eat as much as you want. It’s your kitchen, so it’s really your food anyway.” He puts another bite in his mouth and it hits me. I shouldn’t have come here. Sure, maybe at one time I would have been welcome to come here at—I look at my watch—midnight, but I’m not sure I still have those privileges. Even though Blue is open, Flame is closed, and I had to use the key Mason gave me to get in. I really should have called first.
“I’m sorry,” I furrow my brow, hoping that he isn’t pissed. “I shouldn’t have just come in here like this.” I shake my head at my lack of consideration. “I wasn’t thinking. I needed to clear my head and this seemed like the perfect place.” Levi swallows his food and watches me intently as I keep talking. I can tell that he wants to ask me what I’m talking about, but he doesn’t. “I couldn’t be alone at home because Mia and Benny were there. So I came here . . . out of habit, I think, but I still shouldn’t have come. Or at the very least I should have called you first. I’m really—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupts softly. “You were going to make me samples of some desserts anyway”—he peeks in the oven—“and by the looks of it, that’s exactly what you did.” When his eyes meet mine again, he looks happy, not unlike the way he looked last night at Blue but far different from how he looked the night he hired me.
“That’s it? You’re not mad?”
“No,” he laughs. “I’m not mad. Now show me what else you’ve got.” He’s really thrown me for a loop. It’s not that I expected him to be furious, but with our history and the less than warm welcome I initially received, I anticipated a little bit more
“Is that why my kitchen looks like a tornado went through it?” he asks, looking around the room. I nod coyly and he smiles in return. “Glad to know that hasn’t changed.”
Cocking my head, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“You,” he says, waving his hand in my direction. “Anytime you were upset—about anything—you wanted to be in the kitchen. It didn’t matter what it was, and it didn’t matter what you were making, you had to be in here.”
I slide my hands down the front of my apron. “Well, you’re right. That hasn’t changed.” We stand there staring at each other, and I can’t help but wonder what all hasn’t changed with him. In the past, when Levi was upset, he liked to be with me, and it didn’t matter what we did as long as we were together. I wonder what he does now when he’s upset.
“What are you making?” He halts our trip down memory lane and strides over to the pot that’s sizzling and popping on the stove.
I follow him, noticing that he doesn’t look quite as rumpled today as he did the other day. “You look better today,” I say, the words just falling from my mouth.
“Did I look bad the other day?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“No, you just looked stressed.”
“Mason and I have had some things going on with the business,” he says with a shrug, as if it’s not a big deal.
“Careful. It’ll spit at you,” I warn when he gets too close to the bubbling pot.
“What is it?” he asks, peering over the edge from a safe distance. They’ve been in long enough, so I pull the fried dough from the oil, one by one, and place them on a cooling rack. Picking one up, I bounce it from hand to hand, blowing on it to cool it down so it won’t burn his mouth.
“Here.” I hold the tiny chunk of heaven in my hand and Levi takes it. “Take a bite.” I grin, excited for him to try what I’ve made. He doesn’t hesitate and I watch as he bites into the crunchy layer, his eyes instantly rolling back into his head.
“Oh my God,” he moans around the food in his mouth. “This is amazing.” I pop a bite into my mouth and smile as he asks, “Can I have another one?”
I cover my mouth so he doesn’t see my half-eaten food when I answer him. “Please. Eat as much as you want. It’s your kitchen, so it’s really your food anyway.” He puts another bite in his mouth and it hits me. I shouldn’t have come here. Sure, maybe at one time I would have been welcome to come here at—I look at my watch—midnight, but I’m not sure I still have those privileges. Even though Blue is open, Flame is closed, and I had to use the key Mason gave me to get in. I really should have called first.
“I’m sorry,” I furrow my brow, hoping that he isn’t pissed. “I shouldn’t have just come in here like this.” I shake my head at my lack of consideration. “I wasn’t thinking. I needed to clear my head and this seemed like the perfect place.” Levi swallows his food and watches me intently as I keep talking. I can tell that he wants to ask me what I’m talking about, but he doesn’t. “I couldn’t be alone at home because Mia and Benny were there. So I came here . . . out of habit, I think, but I still shouldn’t have come. Or at the very least I should have called you first. I’m really—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupts softly. “You were going to make me samples of some desserts anyway”—he peeks in the oven—“and by the looks of it, that’s exactly what you did.” When his eyes meet mine again, he looks happy, not unlike the way he looked last night at Blue but far different from how he looked the night he hired me.
“That’s it? You’re not mad?”
“No,” he laughs. “I’m not mad. Now show me what else you’ve got.” He’s really thrown me for a loop. It’s not that I expected him to be furious, but with our history and the less than warm welcome I initially received, I anticipated a little bit more
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