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“Dad’s shrimp and grits?” I nod. “Figured it was a must, considering how often you asked for it when we were kids.”
Abel blinks. “I would’ve eaten it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if Joe let me. Best Sunday supper on Earth.”
“Dad made shrimp and grits almost every Sunday,” I explain to Lu. “Abel would come over extra early just to make sure he didn’t miss out.”
“Miss out on the food?” Lu arches a brow. “Or miss out on spending time with you?”
Abel sips his tequila, the creases in his forehead deepening. “Both. Either.”
“Aw, that’s sweet.” Lu places a saucepan on the stove and lights a burner. “All right, let’s get these grits going. Since we’re celebrating, we’re gonna use half and half, and a whole lot of butter.”
Lu shows Abel how to whisk the grits into the pot, then hands the whisk over to him. “Smells good,” he says. “Homey.”
“Comfort food at its finest,” Lu says. “While those are cooking, we’ll make our shrimp. Here, let’s chop some onions.”
Abel and I are equally abysmal at it. We laugh, eyes stinging with tears as each of us butchers our onions. Slices go everywhere. Part of my onion is literal mush, while Abel’s lies lopsided on his cutting board, large chunks of it spilling onto the floor. He’s quick to pick it all up, informing us that onions are toxic to dogs, and he doesn’t want Cher or Tai to get sick.
I furrow my brow. “How do you know that onions are toxic for pups?”
“It may be temporary, but I’m still Cher and Tai’s dog dad for the foreseeable future. Gotta keep everyone in the house safe, so I did a little internet research.”
Lu grins. “That is really freaking cute.”
“Very cute, yes.” My pulse keeps skipping beats. Time to change the subject before my pupils literally turn into hearts. Gesturing to the mess we’re making, I say, “It’s like a murder scene. A vegetable homicide.”
Abel laughs, tearing a sheet off the nearby roll of paper towels. “A crime against onions everywhere.” He carefully dabs at my eyes with the paper towel. “That better?”
“Yes. Thank you. Are all onions this potent? Becausewhew.”
Lu nods. She’s watching us again, that funny look on her face. “You get used to it.”
Abel dabs at my eyes one last time. I catch his gaze straying to my mouth. A pulse of lust lands in my center.
If you count the sex we had after midnight, we’ve done it approximately four times already today.Four. How the hell am I still able to get so aroused so quickly?
“Just to be clear,” Lu says, “y’all aren’t actually together, correct?”
Abel clears his throat. “Correct.”
“Hm.”
My face is hot. I turn back to the mangled corpse of my onion. “So what’s our next step?”
“Riley was right,” Lu says.
My pulse skips a beat. “About what?”
“Nothing.” She grins. “Just you two being very good at pretending. Y’all missed your calling.”
Abel sips his tequila. “As actors?”
Lu is still grinning as she slices into a fresh onion. “As a couple. A real one.”
Abel sputters. My heart trips and stumbles.
“A skill I didn’t know I had,” he says, gulping his tequila.
“So, the gravy,” Lu says. “We start by melting some butter in a pan...”
