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Adora looks at the chef. “Why do you care what he thinks of your cake?” she asks.
The chef looks at me, and I simply give him a small nod, which she doesn’t see as he continues to talk, “Joey, here, has the best palate for anything sweet. Maybe not savory, but sweet he knows.” He chuckles.
Adora’s eyes find mine as I take the first bite. It’s a mixture between a mud cake and a brownie—the honeycomb giving it an out-of-this-world texture.
“Best one yet,” I tell him, which earns me a smile.
“I was hoping so.” I offer the fork I just used to Adora, and her brows pinch together as she looks at it. She’s hesitant but slides the fork through the dessert before bringing it to her lips. I watch as the flavors hit her, and she moans loudly and almost falls as her eyes spring open.
Adora eagerly nods her head. “I don’t agree with anything this man says, but this is amazing.” She goes to take another bite.
“Why thank you, kind lady.” The chef bows before he walks off.
I remain where I am, watching her demolish the cake. She eats the rest, not offering me another bite. When she’s done, she smiles wide. “Now that’s a cake you could fuck to.”
“Fuck to?”
“Yeah, you know. You’re in the middle of fucking and you want to add some extra flavor, that cake is your girl.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I remove the plate from her hand. “In case you embarrass yourself and try to lick it clean.”
Adora’s hands fly to her hips. “I was planning on licking it clean. I’m pretty good with my tongue.”
“I’m sure you are.”
The chef walks back and holds out a box of cake. “For you, miss.”
She takes it, smiling gratefully, and peeks inside. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re sharing that with me,” I tell her.
Her stare is hard as she locks eyes with me. “That’s a hard no.” Then she turns and walks back to the door.
The manager comes through and hands me an envelope, but I don’t stay and talk. Instead, I walk straight out after Adora.
“I want to go tomorrow,” I tell her, and she stops halfway to her car.
“You what?” she asks, sounding confused as she turns around to look at me.
“I want to go tomorrow.”
“No, you aren’t allowed.” She shakes her head vehemently, and it makes me want to laugh.
“I don’t think we’re really following any sort of traditions,” I argue.
“I don’t want you there. It’s as easy as that.”
“Why not?” I press, and her shoulders lift with a deep breath.
“Because I don’t.” Her lips thin.
“You don’t have any family with you. Your only family is in Italy attending a boarding school. So unless you plan to put her on the next flight straight away, I’m your only option apart from your friend.”
“You aren’t my only option.” She smiles, but it’s not nice.
“So, you’ve invited your date, then?” Her smile falters, and she sucks air between her teeth. “I see…” I chuckle, turning her fake smile into a glare.
“You are a real ass, you know that?” she bites out. “Is this who you are? You read people?” She steps up closer, and I want to lean in and wrap my hands around her neck. Then I want to kiss the shit out of her.
