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“She just—she asked a bunch of invasive questions.” He pauses as the server brings around the appetizer. “She wanted to know about my parents, my dad especially, and I get it, I haven’t said that much about him publicly. But she spoke to my mom’s family too, and they had nothing good to say about him, so defending him… I hated having to do that.”
“I’m glad you didn’t end up with your mother’s family after your parents passed.” He told me a little more about them, and they sound horrible. If I ever meet them, they should run in the opposite direction, because I’ll protect Sebastian with everything I have.
He snorts. “Who knows what I’d be like right now.”
I spear a forkful of food and hold it out to him. “Try it. Good food always puts you in a good mood.”
To my relief, he smiles. “I want to do something with burrata. Maybe this weekend? I’ve been wanting to play around with eggplant.”
I burst out laughing. “Babe.”
“What?” he says. “That was completely serious. Grilled with some nice olive oil drizzled on top, warm burrata, herbs, maybe walnuts for texture? I could make a vinaigrette with a flavored molasses, do the sweet and sour thing.”
“Eating at a fancy restaurant and you’re rewriting the menu in your head,” I tease.
“Richard knows the owner of this place,” he says. “I asked him if I could work here, back in freshman year, but he wanted me to focus on baseball.”
I glance around. I’ve never worked in a restaurant; when I was in high school, I worked at a local coffee shop, and that has continued at McKee. Part of me wants to make it into the study abroad program just to get a break from The Purple Kettle. “What, as a server? Having a job in college kind of sucks. I hate making lattes over and over.”
“Oh, I know it wouldn’t have been easy. But I wanted to be in the kitchen. Even as a dishwasher, you know? Just to experience it and learn more about food.”
“You definitely know a lot about food. Everything you make is delicious.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, I try when I can, here and there. But the restaurant world is its own kind of beast.”
“Maybe you should go on one of those cooking competition shows. They’d love that, a pro-bound baseball player who can make perfect filet mignon.”
He shakes his head. “No way. I can barely stand the thought of the twenty people who tune in when they televise my games.”
I take a sip of wine, considering him. “I hate to break it to you, but way more than twenty people watch MLB games.”
He drags his hand over his face exaggeratedly. “Don’t remind me.”
I reach over and poke him. “Might want to prepare yourself, whatever you need to do.”
“Wear racehorse blinders, something casual like that. Won’t be weird at all on ESPN.” He mimics blinders with his hands, sending me into a fit of giggling. “I mean, it’s fine. Today was a trip. I felt like I was naked the whole time, and everyone was staring.”
“To be fair, it’s hard not to stare when you’re naked.”
That comes out of my mouth at the exact moment the server sets down our entrées.
My face erupts into heat as Sebastian’s mouth drops open. “Wow. You know what, thank you. I feel so much less embarrassed now.”
I find his foot underneath the table and stomp on it. “You’re terrible.”
“Is that why you came into the shower with me again the other day?” He leans back, propping his elbow on the back of his chair, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I had no idea I was so irresistible to you.”
“I hate you.”
“Come on, sweetheart.” He drags the tip of his shoe up my bare leg. I can’t keep from swallowing visibly, and I know he can tell by the way his gaze zeroes in on my throat. “We both know that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“If you insist.” I know my blush gives me away, but it’s too fun to keep up the ruse. He clears his throat, taking a sip of water.
“I know you’re busy with work right now,” he says, “but there’s a game tomorrow night. Not many left in the season. I was wondering if… you wanted to come. To see me play.”
I smile, hiding it behind my hand as I chew. “You want me in the stands?”
“Yeah. If you want to check it out. I know my first attempts at giving you tickets were total fails, but I figure that now—”
