Page 37 of How My Fake Alien Boyfriend Learned to Cook and Saved the Family Business

“I wish we had food like this where I’m from,” Kal said as he took another big bite.

What place doesn’t have chicken salad and homemade potato chips?

I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask. “Where are you from?”

Kal’s shoulder lifted an inch, and I saw the exact moment his face shuttered, closed off. “You wouldn’t know it,” he said, finally.

Well. That was that. I had pried enough.

I left Kal alone as I finished cleaning up. In the kitchen, I scooped a cinnamon roll onto a plate and set it on the desk in the office. With that, it was time for me to leave. I was proud of what we had accomplished today, but it had left me drained, physically and emotionally.

I said my goodbyes, pointing Kal to his cinnamon roll in the back. I aimed myself for the door, letting him know we would open as usual the next day, so be sure to get some sleep. Before I knew what was happening, he wrapped me in a hug, my cheek pressed against his chest.

“Thank you, Lola,” he said, breath ghosting over the top of my head. “For everything.”

And then I left, too stunned for words, with a feeling like someone kneading dough in my chest.

Lola

It had been a little over a week since Kal showed up at Southern Charm, and I could honestly say the restaurant was better for it. We were still slow customer-wise, but the dining room looked so much better with the fixes Kal and I had made. I was certainly prouder to open the restaurant each morning.

Even Ollie, who came to Southern Charm every morning and barely strung more than four words together, commented on the updates.

I’d handed him a plate of eggs, toast, and turkey bacon, and he’d looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Lookin’ good here, Lola. Your grandma would be proud.” And I’d about cried right there, because I knew if Ollie said something, he meant it.

I believed him, too. I was proud of what I’d done—what Kal and I had done, together.

It also seemed like news was getting around slowly, because our lunch shifts had picked up a bit. We didn’t have enough business to justify opening up for dinner yet, but I could feel a weight lifting slowly from my shoulders. Maybe Southern Charm still had some life in it after all.

“Maybe it’s a social experiment,” Nat said, inspecting a bundle of leeks at a produce stand at the Roswell Falls farmers’ market. “Or, like, performance art.”

I had confided in her about my interactions with Kal...or I had tried to. I found it was all a bit too strange to convey properly. How do you describe a guy like Kal?

“But he seems so genuine,” I protested, almost taking offense at her insinuation that he was putting on an act. I didn’t want to believe that Kal was being anything other than authentic, I suppose because I didn’t want to imagine a reality where he didn’t actually like me. Where his compliments were lies. Perfect, he’d said. Beautiful, like flowers. My skin tingled at the memory.

“A prank show, maybe. Have you noticed any cameras following you around?” Nat weighed a basket of blueberries in her hand, considering.

“He wouldn’t do that,” I snapped. “He’s a nice person.”

“Whoa there,” Nat lifted a hand in the air. “Not saying he isn’t, Lo. But I don’t know the guy, and you asked for my opinion, remember?”

She was right. I grumbled an apology and bumped her with my shoulder to show I meant it.

“He’s a lizard person,” Jacob said from behind me. I turned to find him sucking on a honey stick, standing near a table of herbs. I regretted inviting him to tag along as I picked out ingredients from local farmers.

“He is not,” I said, flapping at the air. “He’s just…a little quirky.”

“Oh sure, believe the strange man who showed up out of nowhere—not your own brother,” Jacob said snarkily. “Even though he has proof.”

I rolled my eyes. “What proof, pray tell?”

Jacob squinted, like he was contemplating whether or not to share his super secret intel.

He must have decided it was worth the effort, because he said, “There’s a tear in his suit.” Jacob placed a finger to a spot behind his ear. “Right here. You can see the green underneath.”

“You’ve been playing way too many video games,” I said before turning to pay for my produce haul.

“And you’re going to get abducted.” Jacob shrugged nonchalantly. “But you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”