Page 41 of French 75
MUST KISS ME LIKE MY LIFE DEPENDS ON IT.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Skylar
“What are we doing here?”
Cassius doesn’t look annoyed as the automatic grocery store doors open for us. He takes my hand and pulls me to his side when a couple nearly knocks into me. I smile and lean up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Ever the hero.
“I thought we could have a date,” I say, taking the initiative and tugging him in the direction we need to go.
He raises a curious eyebrow. “A date? At a grocery store?”
I nod happily. “You know my past boyfriends haven’t…” I nibble on my bottom lip. Even though I’ve come to acknowledge that they were all raging assholes, it still fills me with embarrassment to admit it. But this is Cassius, so I sigh and continue. “Well, let’s just say that when Mr. Right comes along, I want us to be able to do fun things.”
“Like go to the grocery store,” he repeats slowly. He’d never look at me as if I was losing my mind, but I can tell he’s confused.
I giggle and drag him to the elevator. “We’re taking a cooking class!”
One amazing thing about living in Florida is this particular chain of grocery stores. They’re elite. Like puts every other store to shame. Not only are these places so clean you could eat offthe floor, but they offer a ton of extras. This location happens to have two stories. The bottom one is where people can shop, but the top has space for events. I even subscribe to their newsletter, which is how I managed to snag the last two spots for their monthly cooking class.
Cassius nods as we enter the elevator. “Cool.”
I practically fawn over him. Maybe Ricky or someone else would have told me this was a ridiculous idea, but Cassius always goes with the flow. He’s down for anything, so easy, and it makes being around him almost effortless.
Still holding hands, we step off the elevator and follow the signs to the class. It’s being held in this fancy-looking kitchen with rows of tables all set up and ready. The person leading the class greets us and hands us two aprons emblazoned with the grocery chain name. She tells us to sit wherever we want, and since we’re cutting it close, we take the last row all the way in the back.
“I think this is going to be really fun,” I tell Cassius as I look at all the ingredients that have been laid out for us. “The email said that we’d be making crème brûlée.”
He smiles fondly and pecks the top of my head. “Sounds great, sunshine.”
“I think I can learn a lot of skills.” I continue as the instructor starts preparing for the class. “Maybe I could even cook for you some time?”
He snorts, but not in the sort of disdainful way I’m used to from others. “Unlikely.”
“Hey,” I tease, narrowing my eyes as I slap his arm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I love you, but you can’t cook for shit,” he explains, then gives me an appeasing wink. “Just let me do the cooking.”
I would be offended were he not the most amazing cook on the planet. Cassius can makeanything. Sometimes, we evenmake it a game. We’ll purposefully avoid shopping so that he’s forced to figure out what to do with the sad remains of our fridge. Somehow, everything he makes tastes like liquid gold, and I’m a bit envious of it. Not just that, but he cookseverynight. Even if he’s not hungry, there’s still a plate full of food on our table, ready for me when I come home for work.
I pout. “But how is that fair?”
He shrugs. “I like cooking for you. You letting me do that makes me happy. Deal?”
Well, it’s hard to argue with that logic. Even so, I try to, but the instructor’s voice cuts me off.
“Welcome, everyone!” she cheers, clapping her hands as she takes her position in front of the class. “I’m so happy y’all could join us today! We’ll be learning how to make a very popular French dessert. Now, it may seem like a challenge at first, but together, we’ll make something wonderful. Who’s ready to start?”
I whoop into the air to show my enthusiasm. It earns a few snickers from the old ladies next to us, and I feel a bit embarrassed after the fact. But one glance at Cassius, who’s positively beaming with amusement, makes that fade.
“We love enthusiasm,” the instructor says, her smile so genuine as she picks up the first ingredient. “Now, let’s begin.”
The first thing we do is sort through our ingredients: large eggs, white sugar, vanilla extract, heavy cream, and brown sugar. It looks simple enough, probably just mixing everything together, until she tells us we need to separate the yolks from the white.
“Um…” I mumble, staring at the egg in my hand in panic.
Cassius doesn’t laugh at my petrified look. Instead, he places his hands over mine as he kisses the side of my head. “Here, let me show you. You want to crack the egg but not let any ofit fall. Then you kinda want to just tip it side to side until it’s separated.”
