Page 58 of Forgotten Prejudice

“I actually think I have great taste.”

Ash’s cheeks turned red, and he moved his eyes to my arm. “You got tattoos,” he said in an attempt to change the subject.

“Yeah.” I stretched my right arm to show him the ink. “Now, I gotta do the other arm. Already have the design and all.”

“That’s nice.”

I put on my shirt before smirking at him. “I know, right? What’s a chef without two full sleeves.”

We started walking toward the kitchen.

“I remember Aiden telling me you’re a chef now. That’s impressive.” His voice turned softer. “But you were always an amazing cook.”

“Aww, were you talking about me?” I asked, trying to hide my excitement by joking around and pretending I found it amusing while, in fact, my stomach just flipped.

“My uncle always talks about you.”

“Well, with me, he always talks about you.” I looked at Ash over my shoulder and caught him staring at my back just before he dropped his gaze to the floor. He’s so cute.

I scanned the kitchen but couldn’t see anything. It was unlikely that Aiden had forgotten something, but then again, maybe he didn’t? I mean, wasn’t it a coincidence that Ash came here the day I moved in, just when I was home, alone? Ugh, the old bastard, playing matchmaker in his spare time.

“It doesn’t look like he left you the collar, but we can try calling him,” I said while turning to look at Ash, who was busy scanning the room.

“Nah, I’d rather not bother him. I’ll just come back another day.” He pressed his lips together while rubbing the back of his nape. “Aiden told me you moved in.” It didn’t sound like a question but a fact he casually mentioned.

“Yeah. Today, actually. I’ve got one of the spare bedrooms upstairs.”

“Oh, cool…”

We fell into silence again; the only sound filling the room was that of the oven’s clock ticking. Annoyed and impatient, I snapped my fingers.

“How about I make us something to drink?”

Ash shook his head. “I need to go—”

“Come on, Ashy.”

His eyes widened.

Knowing I got his attention, I went on. “We haven’t talked for over four fucking years. The least we can do is have a cup of coffee together.”

He bit on the tip of his nail before nodding, and I found it funny he was still doing that shit.

Ten minutes later, we sat on the back porch facing the ocean. The afternoon’s heat began to subside and was replaced with a warm breeze.

“So basically, Aiden was bullshitting you since I’m not a chef but a sous chef in a kitchen with a total of four cooks,” I told Ash after he asked me about my job. “The head chef is awesome, though. A true Italian from Milan. I learn a lot from him.”

Ash took a sip from his coffee, which he now drank with oat milk, and smiled. “That’s amazing,” he said, his eyes focusing on the mug he held close to his chest.

“It was all thanks to Aiden, who put in a good word for me. You’d be surprised how many people don’t want to hire an ex-addict,” I tried joking but immediately felt the shift in mood as Ash tensed beside me. While I was cool with talking and even laughing about those days, maybe he wasn’t.

“Anyway, forget about me. I heard you graduated recently.” Last month, Aiden proudly mentioned Ash had finished his bachelor’s degree. I never thought he’d go to college, with how much he hated school, but people change.

“I did.”

I patted his back, and he was sent slightly forward. “Congratulations, dude, that’s amazing. Business, right?”

“Business psychology, actually,” Ash said, then shifted a bit on the bench we sat on so we’d have more distance between us. His reaction to my touch, as subtle as it was, hurt. It wasn’t like I meant anything by touching his shoulder, but even that bothered him. We used to be all over each other, but that was years ago, and, as I said, people change.