Page 45 of Triple Play
Instead, I focus on not burning the garlic.
“You’re good at this,” she says.
I glance over. She’s watching me with those hazel eyes, the ones that shift between green and gold depending on her mood.
Right now? They’re gold.
“I’m good at a lot of things.” The words come out flirtier than I mean them to.
Her lips twitch. “Modest, too.”
“Modesty’s overrated.” I bump her hip with mine. “So’s mediocrity. If you’re good at something, own it.”
“Is that a Jordie Dickson original?”
“Nah. My Nonna used to say it. Well, in Italian. It sounded better in Italian.”
“What else did she say?”
“That I talk too much. That I need to find a nice girl and settle down. That my father’s an idiot for caring more about polls than people.” I stir the sauce and add a pinch of red pepper flakes. “She died when I was sixteen. I miss her every day.”
Elise’s expression softens. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
We work in silence for a minute: her chopping, me cooking, Wyatt watching us like we’re a nature documentary, and Grant pretending he’s not also watching while he scrolls his phone.
The domesticity of it hits me sideways. This could be my life: cooking with a woman I’m falling for, friends at the table, Sunday nights that mean something.
But it’s not my life. It’s temporary— a semester, maybe a year. Then we all scatter to wherever our careers take us.
The thought makes my chest tight.
“You okay?” Elise asks quietly.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You’re frowning at the sauce.”
I am. I force my expression back to neutral. “Just making sure it’s perfect.”
“It will be. You’re good at this.”
She says it again. This time, I hear what she means—not just the cooking, but the way I make people feel included, wanted. The way I turn a house into something closer to a home.
“Thanks,” I say. My voice comes out rougher than I want.
She smiles. It’s small, private—just for me.
My heart does something stupid.
I lean in. Can’t help it. She’s close and warm and smiling at me like that.
“Can I—?”
My eyes drop to her lips. I’m going to kiss her right here in the kitchen with Wyatt and Grant ten feet away.
Bad idea. Terrible idea.
