Page 96 of Wicked Dares
Holy shit, he can cook.
“Oh my God.” I cut another piece before I’ve finished chewing the first. “Levi.”
He leans against the counter, a slow satisfied smile curved on his lips. It does something dangerous to my pulse.
“Good?” he asks as if he doesn’t know.
“More than good.” I spear a piece of charred zucchini. “You can’t cook like this.”
He laughs. “I can’t?”
“No. It’s unfair. I can’t even cook like this, and I was taught by one of the finest cooks in the South.” Aunt Bess’ food tastes like something straight from heaven. Levi’s food is on par. “Please tell me there’s something you’re bad at.”
He laughs again, then gives me a pensive stare as he thinks. “Ant farming.”
I give him a deadpan stare. “Ant farming, Levi? Have you ever even tried that?”
“No, because I think I’d be bad at it.”
We both laugh now.
“You are so crazy.”
“Right?”
I pout and shake my head at him.
He reaches behind him for another container, peels back the lid, and tips a pile of raw shrimp onto the board. They're already peeled, glossy, and pink-shelled at the tails. He pulls a small bowl of marinade closer, sweet peppers, and a stack of wooden skewers I hadn't noticed before.
Quickly, he gets to work again, threading shrimp and chunks of red pepper and onion onto the skewers. Once he’s done, he brushes each one with marinade before laying them on the grill. The hiss that follows sends a curl of garlic and lemon into the air.
“Where did you learn to cook like this?” I ask, watching the shrimp turn from translucent to opaque under his hands as he flips them.
He shrugs one shoulder. “Picked it up at Yale. You learn fast when you’re thrown in the deep end and want to swim.”
I file that away with everything else I'm not supposed to be cataloging about Levi Vale.
The shrimp is done in minutes.
He serves me again, then he grabs his own plate and piles it with food. He slides onto the stool in front of me and our knees brush under the counter. Levi makes no effort to move his knee away. I do the same.
As I eat, happy childhood memories come back to me and I find myself smiling.
Levi glances over. “What? Still shocked I can cook?”
I shake my head softly. “Yes, of course, I’m still in shock, but I was thinking about cooking with my family.”
“Your aunt?”
A small smile pulls at my mouth. “My mom, actually.”
Sympathy enters his eyes. “Did she cook like this?”
“Yeah. All the time. My parents loved doing barbeques, and camping is a big thing for us.” I smile. “My parents would always grill shrimp. Aunt Bess is allergic, so I didn’t have it as much when I went to live with her. It was a small thing. Whenever I have shrimp now, I remember happy moments with my parents. I find that as time goes by, memories fade, but those happy moments stay with me.”
“Well, you can have as much shrimp as you want with me. I like seeing you happy.”
The warmth of his words reaches me, lulling me to entertain whatever this thing is between us.
