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“It’s what happened.”
He looked away, eyes falling to the ground. “You don’t have to forgive me. Or want to talk to me. We don’t have to be best friends, but this will be a little easier if we at least talk ... I think.”
“Youthink?”
“No, I know.” He shook his head, lips pursed. Was he ... frustrated with himself?
Our conversations, even as kids, never carried thisweird energy. Alden seemed to be at war with himself over something as simple as this.
“It’s fine. Surviving doesn’t require talking.”
“Do you have experience with that?”
My eyes flew to him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You look worn out, like you’ve been in survival mode for too long.” At my answering glare, he put up his hands. “Hey, you don’t have to answer. I was just pointing out a fact.”
“How about we talk about something else,” I muttered. I wondered if he could even come up with anything.
“What kind of soup is that?”
My eyes sank to my bowl. I’d forgotten I was even eating.
“Chicken and gnocchi.”
“Amma’s recipe?”
“Kind of. I added a few things to it.”
“How is it?”
“Why do you care?”
“You’ve always been good at cooking.” He shrugged. “It’s been a while since I’ve had anything you made.”
When we were kids, I would shove my experiments at both Nick and Alden, eager to have other people taste my cooking. It had been a long time since I’d forced a taste test of my most recent creation into his mouth. It had stopped like all other communication after that fateful night.
And despite everything, I wanted him to try it. I wanted his opinion.
I held out the spoon. “Here. Try some.”
Alden didn’t waste time grabbing the spoon. I unhelpfully remembered the times when I used to spoon-feed him, which made my body flush.
His lips curved around the utensil, and yet another terrible thought hit me.
That’s an indirect kiss.
Goddammit. I’d spent only minutes with him and my childlike thoughts were rushing back to me.
“This is incredible.”
I hated that I perked up. “Really? Even the cream of chicken base? I made it myself.”
“You can make that?”
“You can make anything if you have the time for it. Or the willpower. I’m a bit rusty, though. It could have used more cream and?—”
“Is there more?”