Page 34 of Banter & Blushes

I cleared my throat and tried to sound confident. “Hey, Rebecca, it’s Luca. I, uh, brought you something.”

There was a slight pause before the door opened, and she stood there, looking as lovely as ever, her hair falling over her shoulders in that perfect “I barely tried, but I look this good” way that drove me crazy. My fingers itched to touch it, but they were currently occupied.

“Oh, hey!” she said, a little surprised to see me standing there holding... whatever the heck this was.

I gave her my most charming grin, hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt. “So, I’ve got a little something for you. I thought... maybe you'd like to try it.”

She glanced at the container in my hand, clearly unsure of what she was looking at. “Um, what is it?” she asked, squinting slightly, like she was trying to figure out if I was holding some kind of weird science project.

“Lasagna tacos,” I said with all the false pride I could muster. “It’s... a fusion. Italian and Mexican. I, uh, thought it’d be a bold move.”

Rebecca blinked. Twice.

I inwardly groaned.

I shifted on my feet, feeling a little too self-aware now. “You know, because... I wanted to do something spontaneous. I thought it would be a good idea.” I added that last part, almost like I was trying to explain away my bizarre choice, even though it had been Joe’sfault—but not really.

She didn’t say anything right away, just stared at the tacos for a second. And then, she smiled.Smiled. But it was a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Like a nervous smile. A"what did I get myself into"smile.

I immediately panicked. “You don’t have to eat them! If you don’t like them, that’s totally fine. I—I just thought it would be fun. And, you know, different.” I was talking way too fast.

“No, no!” she said quickly, laughing, as if I had somehow completely misread her expression. “I mean, I’m sure it’s... interesting. I’m just, um, surprised. I’ve never had anything like this before.” She stepped back, motioning for me to come in. “Come on in, Luca. I’mreallycurious now.”

Wait. Did it really work? She was inviting me in? Joe, you brilliant, crazy?—

I took a deep breath, and stepped in, gently placing the meal on her table.

Rebecca went to grab some paper plates, setting it down beside the dish and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so... how do we even eat these?”

“Just—uh—grab one and go for it,” I said, trying to act casual, but inside, I was dying. This was either going to be a magical moment of culinary genius, or I was going to get kicked out of her hotel room in shame.

She picked one up hesitantly, giving it a little sniff before biting into it. For a second, I thought I saw her expression flicker with genuine curiosity, but then she chewed. And... chewed some more.

Then she stopped.

I stared at her, my heart pounding. “So?”

She smiled again, but this time it was definitely one of those “I’m trying really hard not to offend you” smiles. “Well... it’s definitelyunique. I’ve never had anything like it. The lasagna’s reallytender, though. And the taco shell is, uh... kind of crunchy?”

I felt my face heat up. “Uh, yeah, the taco shell is supposed to be crunchy. It’s a taco. With lasagna. And—I don’t know, I thought it was genius.” I rubbed the back of my neck nervously.You won’t hear the end of this Joe.“Maybe... maybe it’s not working? I mean, I thought it would be thebold move, but if it’s a disaster, just—just tell me and I’ll... uh... I’ll go.”

Her eyes widened in panic. “No! No, I didn’t mean that! I’m just, um, it’s just... it’s a lot of flavors, you know? But hey, props for trying. I’m actuallyimpressedyou thought of this, Luca. It’s creative, I’ll give you that.”

“Creative?” I repeated, trying not to choke on my own words. “Creative, yeah. That’s a word for it.”

She laughed, setting the taco down on the plate. “I’m just saying... it’s not like anything I’ve ever had before. But I—uh—didn’t expect this from you.”

I blinked. A warm sensation filled my chest. She knew me so well already. “What do you mean? What were you expecting?”

She bit her lip and looked a little sheepish. “Well, I don’t know... maybe something more... classic? Like, I don’t know, pasta? Or something, like, I don’t know...normal?” She looked at me like she was trying to figure out if I was mad at her for not immediately loving the lasagna taco.

I stared at her for a long moment, my mind replaying Joe’s crazy conversation about boldness. “You wanted pasta?”

Her face immediately flushed. “No! I mean, yes, but—no! I’m not saying youshould’vemade pasta, but maybe something a little less...crazy? I guess I wasn’t expecting this level of...boldness.”

“Well, you got it,” I said, laughing nervously. “Ididgo for it, huh?”

She nodded. “Yeah, you did.” Then, after a long pause, she added, “But, Luca... I guess what I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to go allcrazyjust to impress me. I like you for you. Even if you make weird food combinations.”

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