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He lifts an eyebrow. “So what kind of sex noises do you normally make then?” he teases.
I roll my eyes despite the heat that flashes through my body at Tyler teasing me about the kind of noises I make in the bedroom.
“Seriously though, it was good?” he asks.
“Good isn’t even close to being the right word to describe that sandwich. Try amazing. Actually, mindblowing is better.”
The grin pulling at his lips turns shy as his gaze falls to the ground. Almost like he’s embarrassed to hear me compliment him. It’s so different from how confident and playful he normally is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this bashful. And he’s doing it around me. It kind of feels like he’s showing a side of himself he doesn’t let anyone else see…
My stomach flips yet again.
He looks at me, still smiling, and shrugs. “Just a new sandwich recipe I tried out. I’m glad you like it.”
“Like it? I love it. Here, you have to have some.”
We split the rest of the sandwich while sharing one of the beers he brought over to my apartment earlier this evening. For a fleeting second, I catch myself thinking this is exactly the kind of thing couples do—share their favorite food in happy, companionable silence.
“This is probably my favorite sandwich that you’ve made so far,” I say.
The corner of his mouth hooks up in a sexy smile. I have to squeeze my thighs together to keep the pulse between my legs at bay.
Wow, Tori. Get it together.
“You think so?” he says through that crooked grin.
I nod and clear my throat. “No question. I mean, all the sandwiches you’ve made are incredible. I still dream about those fried chicken sliders you made for my birthday. And that ham and manchego cheese on a warm baguette.” I lick my lips, and he laughs. “I have a weakness for a perfect BLT though.”
His smile remains even as he chews on the bite he just took. And then he playfully nudges me with his shoulder. I’m instantly pulled back to reality with that move. I’ve seen Tyler do this to his brother and his sister. Clearly, he sees me as one of them. He’s probably not fantasizing about us being a couple like I am.
That’ll teach me to let my imagination take over.
“How do you come up with these sandwiches?” I ask. “My whole life I’ve gone the boring route. Peanut butter and jelly. Turkey with lettuce. Bologna with mustard.” I make a face, and Tyler chuckles. “You’re over here cranking out gourmet-level dishes between two slices of bread.”
His cheeks flush when he smiles. “My dad’s always cooked amazing food. So has my brother. And my mom too. And everyone on her side of the family. It’s genetic,” he says in a teasing tone.
“So what does your dad think about all these new sandwich recipes you’re coming up with?” I ask.
In addition to Se’bon, Tyler’s chef dad runs a bunch of high-end restaurants all over the world. He’s a big shot in the culinary universe and has even been a judge on cooking competition shows.
The way Tyler frowns slightly before taking a long pull from our beer glass. “Not sure. I haven’t told him.”
“Really? What about Gage?”
When Gage isn’t working at Se’bon, he has a hugely successful TikTok account where he posts gourmet recipes. He’s also a major thirst trap with all the suggestive captions and hashtags he posts, and the fact that he’s often shirtless in his videos.
Tyler picks at the label on the beer bottle. “I haven’t told him either.”
I wait for him to say more, but he’s quiet. I’m a little thrown off. I’m not used to Tyler clamming up like this. He’s normally such a jokester.
“Why not? They’re mega foodies. I bet they’d go wild for your sandwiches,” I say. Food is such a huge part of his family’s life. Why hasn’t he shared his recipes with them?
“Everything you’ve come up with is delicious,” I say when he goes quiet.
He doesn’t smile like he did when I complimented him a minute ago. Instead, his shoulders hunch forward, almost like he’s ashamed.
“Not sure my dad or brother would like it,” he says after a quiet moment. “They’re both into more high-end stuff.”
His tone is so low and serious. I’m quiet for a second. I’m not used to him sounding so…down about himself. I’m about to tell Tyler that he shouldn’t sell himself short, that he should tell his dad and brother about his sandwich recipes, but I stop myself. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it for some reason. I shouldn’t push him.
