Page 214 of Delicious

I nod, desperate to reach out and touch him. “I just got back a few weeks ago.” Noticing curious glances from the diners, I motion for him to sit and take the chair between him and Marco.

He sits slowly, briefly glancing at Marco, who’s watching the interaction with the same calm acceptance he always had when we were together.

I used to call him our stoic king, and Des was our ray of sunshine. Me? I was just the lucky asshole who got to live in their light until I fucked it all up.

“You look good, Des. Both of you look fantastic. Happy.”

“You’re back?” Des asks, ignoring my compliment. “Why didn’t you…” He stops himself, shaking his head.

“Just six weeks,” I say. “It was sudden. The executive chef broke his leg and they needed someone French trained and fast. I was, um…” I stop myself short as the shame of my regrets and mistakes spreads through me. I haven’t told a single person in my life how I really ended up back here, not even my parents. “It was a great opportunity to lead a popular restaurant, even if it’s only temporary.”

“Temporary?” Marco asks. “Why?”

“Broken legs heal. Gerard will be back eventually. Besides, it’s not like I’m in charge. I can’t change the menu or deviate from his recipes, but I can put this on my resumé.”

“What happened to Singapore?” Des asks. I knew he would. That decision is what blew everything up.

“Singapore was good for a while. I learned so much, but my investor partners weren’t the guys I thought they were. About a year and a half in, it all went to shit. The restaurant closed suddenly, but I was picked up quickly. I stayed another six months before I burned out and ended up all the way in London.”

“London?” Marco shakes his head. “You hated working there before.”

Chuckling darkly, I nod. “Still hate it. I couldn’t get an executive chef position, so I was barely surviving in tourist trap dumps.” Scratching my chin, I close my eyes for just a second. “I landed in California after that, in this high-end vegan place. It was okay but still not what I wanted. I had a few friends out here in the industry still, and one of them called me about this. I quit my job, packed up, and a few days later drove across the country back to New Onyx.”

“But you didn’t call us?” Des asks, the hurt in his voice piercing my own heart. “You didn’t want us to know?”

On instinct, I grab his hand and squeeze it. The act of touching him again feels like much needed medicine. “That’s not it, Des. Not at all.”

“Then what is it?”

“Love,” Marco whispers, “maybe this isn’t the place to hash this out.”

Des exhales slowly, nodding. “Right. You’re working.”

“When do you get off, Liam?” Marco asks.

“Kitchen closes at ten. I’m usually out around eleven, eleven-thirty.”

“Come over when you’re done.”

“But it’s so late.”

Marco reaches over and grips my forearm. “Do you think we’ll sleep knowing you’re back?”

“You…you want to talk to me?”

Des scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Come on, Liam. Why wouldn’t we?”

“The way I left things… The lack of contact…” I shrug.

“That’s on me too,” Des says. “It had to be that way.” He twists his hand around so our palms are pressed together. “Come over tonight. We’ll be waiting.”

My stomach flips as I nod. “I want to. We need to talk.”

Marco smiles. “We do.”

I squeeze Des’s hand. “Are you celebrating your birthday?”

He blinks rapidly. “You remember?”

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