Page 86 of Teach Me Your Ways

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CECE

The sound of waves crashing against the shore, blending with the crackle of the firepit Felix had lit after dinner, relaxed me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. I leaned back in my chair, nursing a beer and enjoying the moment.

I was full from the two hot dogs and all the chips I had mowed down. I missed Sophie, but I knew she was safe. And it was two nights if things went well. Since I had Sophie when I was so young, I never got the chance to party. Well, technically, I had partied plenty before Sophie, which was kind of how I got my precious daughter in the first place. But I didn’t party with other adults. I didn’t go out on my twenty-first birthday. There were no spring break trips and wild weekends. I was a good girl. A good mom. So this? It felt a little rebellious and exciting. Technically, it was still for class but it felt fun.

“Who’s ready for marshmallows?” Lina asked.

When we were at the store and Lina added the marshmallows to our basket, I thought it was a joke. She was stick thin. I doubted she had ever eaten more than two grams of refined sugar. There was no way in hell the perky chick had roasted marshmallows over an open fire. But Lina was exactly why one should never judge a book by its cover.

It turned out, she did know all about roasting marshmallows. Granted, her experience came from her family’s propane firepit at their house in the Hamptons, but still. She knew how to do it. Hell, she’d probably done it more times than I had.

I watched as Lina tore open the package for the roasting sticks. Again, I had no idea there was such a thing. The few times I had done it with my dad, we used branches we found. She scooted her chair closer to the firepit and held her stick out.

“You’re supposed to hold it over the flame, not in it,” Felix teased, his own marshmallow already a perfect golden brown.

“I know what I’m doing,” Lina shot back. “Just wait and see.”

I glanced over at Grady, who was sitting a few feet away, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He was staring into the fire, his expression somber. I wondered what he was thinking about—the dive tomorrow, the storm that might or might not come, or maybe something else entirely.

He caught me looking and raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice low.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, looking away. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

I smiled. “How nice this is.”’

It was true. Even Lina seemed more normal out here away from campus. Hell, at the store, she’d even cracked some jokes.

“Okay, listen up,” Lina said, holding up a marshmallow like it was a sacred artifact. “You may be professors and a TA but I’m about to take you all to school. The key to the perfect s’more is patience. You can’t just shove it in the fire and hope for the best. That’s how you end up with a charred mess.”

Felix snorted, leaning back in his chair with his own marshmallow already on a stick. “Says the girl who just set hers on fire.”

Lina shot him a superior look but there was a glimmer of humor in her eyes. “I was testing the flame intensity. It’s called science. Try to keep up, doctor.”

We all laughed at that, even Felix. “I shall do my best,” he said.

I shook my head as I skewered my own marshmallow. “Science, huh? Teach us your secrets.”

“Absolutely,” Lina said, her tone mock-serious. “Now, watch and learn.” She held her marshmallow just above the flames, rotating it slowly so it toasted evenly. “You want a nice golden-brown crust, not blackened ash. And don’t rush it—this is an art form.”

Felix leaned forward, squinting at her marshmallow like he was inspecting a rare gem. “Looks like you’re actually doing it right this time. Color me impressed.”

“Thank you,” Lina said with a dramatic bow of her head. “Now for the graham cracker.”

I glanced over at Grady again. His marshmallow sat untouched on the table beside him. “I hope you’re paying attention,” I told him. “No daydreaming in class.”

He caught my eye and gave me a small smile before finally picking up his stick, skewering his marshmallow, and holding it near the flames. I couldn’t help but watch him, the way the firelight flickered across his handsome, rugged face.

He was so focused, so precise, even in something as simple as roasting a marshmallow. It was both intriguing and ridiculously attractive.

“You’re not holding it like Lina said,” I teased, trying to lighten his mood.

He glanced at me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been making s’mores since before Lina was born.”

“I can hear you,” she said, pausing her lecture to Felix about when to add the chocolate. “And just because you’ve done things a certain way for a long time, it doesn’t mean that way is the best.”