That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(63)

It felt good, though—odd but good.

“Spaghetti and meatballs.” Eve glances up at me with a smile. “You remembered my favorite meal.”

I sit down in my chair, the cold wood surface making my balls want to retract up into my body. “I remember everything about you, Eve.”

She glances over her wineglass. “You make it seem like you’ve liked me for a long time.”

“Just doing a little bit of flirting,” I say instead of admitting to my almost-lifetime crush. “Trying to prove that I can be the man you deserve.”

Her features soften as she reaches out and rubs her thumb over the back of my hand. “I know you are.” I bring her hand to my lips and give it a gentle kiss before picking up my fork. I feel her eyes on me for a few seconds longer, studying me. “How did it feel, cooking again?” she asks.

“Different, good, weird. To be honest, I stood in front of the ingredients for a while, asking myself if I could do it, revisit something I haven’t done in so long.”

“Were you naked while you stared at the ingredients?”

“Of course.” She laughs, and I can’t resist adding, “Those meatballs might be a little jealous, having my balls to compare themselves to.”

“Oh my God, what is wrong with you?”

“I tried to do mirror images for you, but I’m out of practice. Don’t worry, babe, I’ll get it right one day, and you can finally say you’ve had my balls in your mouth.”

She shakes her head and takes a bite, her eyes fluttering shut before she smiles. “You know, you are the biggest pervert I know, but damn it, Reid, you are such a freaking good cook.”

I glance down at my plate. “You don’t have to go over the top with the compliments. I’m going to do the restaurant.”

“I’m not going over the top. I wouldn’t do that. You know I tell the truth, and right now, the flavors that are exploding in my mouth are pure magic. One bite—that’s all I need to know that you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing: cooking.”

“That means a lot, Eve. Thank you.” I sit back in my chair and let out a long breath. “Fuck, I’m feeling emotional, and I don’t want to look like a tool bag in front of you.”

“You don’t want to cry in front of me—is that what you’re saying?”

“Yeah, and I sure as hell don’t want to cry while naked either. It would be way too much of a vulnerable moment for me.”

She pushes her chair out, and coming to my side of the table, she sits on my lap and loops her arms around my neck.

“Be emotional with me; tell me what you’re feeling, how it made you feel to be in front of the stove again. I want to know all of it.”

This is what she wants: the truth, the vulnerability. And even though I’m not the type of guy who divulges shit like that, I need to show her this side of me and show her just how desperate I am to keep her in my life.

“I hate myself—that’s what it comes down to.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, a crease to her brow. “Why do you hate yourself?”

“Because the last few hours have been some of the best hours of my life over the past few years, you excluded.” She smiles. “Yeah, I stumbled around—I fucked up on the pasta a few times, had to remake the dough—and I was a dipshit and forgot the egg in the meatballs at first, but I felt energized. I couldn’t stop smiling. Tasting, testing, challenging myself to push for the flavors I developed so many years ago. Perfecting every last inch of the plate. It was like finding my home again.”

“Then why do you hate yourself?”

“Because the happiness I thought I’d lost has been right in front of me this whole time, but I was too much of a stubborn ass to realize it—or to give in. I thought that if I never cooked again, I would be doing the world a service, but in reality, I was slowly eating away at my soul.” My throat tightens. “I fucking missed this, Eve, and I honestly can’t believe I’m getting another chance at my dream.”

She cups my cheeks, and those hazel eyes bore into me. “You are bound to do great things, Reid. I know you don’t want to hear this, but sometimes we face adversity so we are directed down a different path. The town may be thriving, but it still needs you. It needs Eric, and it needs your flavors. Your dad has a vision, and you’re helping make that come true. You’re giving him one of the greatest gifts you could ever give him by making the restaurant real. You need to realize that this isn’t just for you. This is also for him. This is for Eric . . . this is for me. The dream may have crumbled the first time, but we’re dusting ourselves off, and we’re moving forward.”

My hand moves up to the nape of her neck as I rub my thumb across her skin. “This really matters to you.”

She nods. “More than you know. I gave everything up so Eric could pursue his dreams. I stayed back and cared for our parents, I put my schooling on hold, I put my life on pause. And slowly, I’ve built myself up, I’ve educated myself, I’ve worked my ass off at the Inn so that one day I could go back to Eric and tell him I was ready to pursue the dream we had. That’s what it was supposed to be all along: me managing his restaurant. But I gave that up for our parents. Now that the chance is here, I’m not going to let go of it.”