Page 61 of Bite Me

I knew the moment I saw him what he was there for. He didn’t outright say it was about Emma, but he hinted he knew things, even though he acted like nothing happened when he took me back to my grandfather’s for dinner. Uncomfortable dinners are nothing out of the ordinary in my family.

I can’t think of what would have happened if he had found her there, which makes my task of making Emma hate me and leaving the culinary club that much more important today.

It’s no surprise that they would target my sister if I stepped out of line. What I’ve yet to figure out is exactly what Liam knows.

Emma comes into the kitchen with a new hairstyle nearly every day, even if she has to hide it under the white cap, and today is no different with two buns sitting low on her head.

It doesn’t matter what I feel about her. Staying away from her is nonnegotiable at this point. If Liam is on my case, if he found out I talked to Parker about her . . .

The fact that I came out with no more than a flesh wound proves he doesn’t know the full extent of it, and he can’t find out.

Emma’s bright demeanor is stained by her dark under eyes. I didn’t get good sleep either.

“How are your hands today?” she asks.

I hide my hands in my pockets before she can see them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like someone who likes jokes?”

“You’re really going to act like yesterday never happened?”

I say nothing, letting her sit with the shock, and a strange new feeling of guilt creeps into my stomach. There’s a level of betrayal in her eyes that hurts.

“You never told me you had a sister. I guess there’s a lot you haven’t told me about your family. But you could have. I know a lot about having sisters. Is she younger than you?”

“You need to get to work.”

Her brows dip. “Was that guy who apparently doesn’t exist going to hurt your sister?”

I lean down, partly because I need her scent in my nostrils, and partly because I have to make my point clear.

Stay away from me.

“Do I need to repeat myself, thief?”

“You can trust me. I promise I’m a good listener.”

I wish I could be her, full of all that optimism and hope.

“If you’re going to be in my kitchen, I expect you to work. If you’ve come to talk, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“You’re actually insufferable.” Emma bumps my shoulder as she stomps away with a grunt.

It’s going to be a long fucking day.

We make éclairs from sunup to sundown, and Emma’s are unsurprisingly flawless. She’s fast at it, too. She churned out more than anyone else in the class, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let her off the hook that easily.

It’s late when she shows me her final dozen éclairs, filled with fruit and covered in chocolate. I pluck one from the pan and take a bite.

“It’s great. Make it again. Your choux pastry is slightly undercooked. You pull all your desserts two minutes too early.”

“No way I’m making these again.”

“Oh? Now you get to make it two more times. I think you can get them more uniform, too.”