Page 31 of Hungry Hearts

ME:Scallops are part of the bivalve mollusk family.

MAIA:Kind of like there’s always one bad apple in every family, but in this case, there’s only one good one.

She has me laughing, as always. I can picture her cute nose scrunching up in disgust. Instead of flirting banter, this is a fun, new direction.

ME:You probably wouldn’t be a fan of their cousins.

MAIA:Oh, no. Is the mollusk family tree that bad?

ME:Depends what you considerbad.I’m a fan of walking on the dangerous side.

MAIA:I’m intrigued to learn more about the extended family tree.

ME:Like the bad boys, angel?

MAIA:I said intrigued. Not like.

Good answer since I don’t consider myself a bad boy. I’m too preppy and funny for the dark side. Trey’s the one who likes to give off the dark vibe, even though he’s a marshmallow inside. We’ve been friends for five years and it wasn’t until Ella came into his life that he showed us how squishy he is. A fact I love to bring up on the regular.

ME:Their cousins are snails, slugs, octupi, and squid.

MAIA:If you ever make me anything from that family tree–other than scallops–I will not only throw up all over my dinner, but I may have to rethink ever seeing you again.

ME:Is this a subtle way to ask me to cook for you?

MAIA:I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure you get asked by lots of women to cook for them. Sorry.

She’s right. I do. Mostly, it’s a pickup line to get an invite to my place or to theirs. Unless they’re dining at Red, I’ve never specifically cooked for a woman.

ME:I do get asked a lot.

MAIA:Sorry.

Three dots show up and disappear. She does this a lot, overthinks what she’s going to text. I want her to always speak freely to me.

ME:Ask me how many times I’ve cooked for a woman.

MAIA:It’s okay, Ryder. I was just teasing. I can meet you somewhere at eleven tomorrow. Does that work for you?

Changing the topic won’t work. I’m not that easily distracted. If she was standing in front of me and took off her shirt? Yeah, then I’d be distracted. Christ. She could be wearing a snowsuit and I’d be distracted.

ME:Ask me.

Dots. No dots. Dots. Minutes go by. Finally, she asks.

MAIA:How many women have you cooked for?

ME:None.

I don’t clarify the cooking I do at the restaurant. That’s not what she’s asking, and that’s not what she means. I’m afraid if I tell her I’d cook for her in a heartbeat, it might scare her away. I picture her biting that luscious lip and feeling self-conscious about being too forward.

If I tell her all the things I want to do for her, sexually and not sexually, I could scare her away. But I’ve also been preaching honesty. Yeah, I need to work on my filter, but I don’t need to filter my honesty.

ME:I want to cook for you.

MAIA:You don’t have to say that.

ME:I don’t say things I don’t mean. Well, unless I’m flirting and trying to be charming when I really just want to run far, far away from a crazy woman.

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