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Thinking of cooking tonight. Do you have plans or do you want me to make extra?
The reply came through a few minutes later as I was biting into the soft, crusty bread of my sandwich, the chunky pieces of ham topped with the perfect amount of wholegrain mustard.
Cole:
Depends on two things. Can you cook and what are you cooking?
Me:
Scared I’ll poison you?
Cole:
It’s a distinct possibility
Me:
If I was going to poison you I’d do it in a way you weren’t expecting
Cole:
Like what?
Me:
If I told you then you’d be expecting it
Cole:
That’s reassuring
OK if you promise not to poison me I could be tempted… What are you cooking?
I read back over the messages. It was hard to tell a person’s tone over text, but it kind of felt like he was flirting with me. Something inside me fucking flipped at the thought, and another part of me filled with panic. What was the protocol when your former or maybe still current adversary—who was also your stepbrother—flirted with you?
My fingers were already flying across the screen, ignoring the panicked part of my thoughts. I’d never had a text conversation like this in my life, but that didn’t mean I was going to stop.
Me:
It’s a surprise
Cole:
I’m not convinced
Me:
You won’t regret it. I’m good
Cole:
Big words. OK let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to impress me. Should be back by 6
I glanced down at my tray of food, another small, unexpected smile tugging at my lips.
Me:
Bring strawberries
