Page 17 of Third Time Lucky

‘For Kris,’ I interject, completing his thought.

His name tumbles out more easily this time, the result of one tipsy phone call. Naming him out loud doesn’t feel as awkward any more, yet it stirs a mix of emotions within me. We share this connection, after all; we should be able to talk about it.

He looks at me puzzled but affirms softly, ‘Mostly, I did that for you.’

He did that for me? No way.

I return my focus to the celery, chopping it meticulously. My mind, however, drifts through a tangled web of memories and emotions, unsure of where I stand.

Sure, Asher and I had seen one another a lot in those two weeks, with the funeral and events that come along with a sudden death. But the last thing I ever expected was for him to call and tell me to get ready; he was taking me to the prom I’d been looking forward to for months.

I was as delighted as a teen in mourning could be not to miss my senior prom.

But at the same time, I was torn, feeling like I was doing something I shouldn’t be – cheating on a boyfriend who no longer existed, and afraid the night would be like walking on a tightrope of fragile glass, where every word threatened to shatter and leave us tumbling into a pool of grief-stricken tears.

It didn’t, though. If I remember right, Asher kept me laughing most of the night. My God, do I miss green flags too?

‘Why would you do that for me?’ I ask, my curiosity battling with the hesitation in my voice.

His smile is bittersweet. ‘After weeks of relentless tears and heart-wrenching mourning, I knew you needed to find your smile again. And I felt responsible, so I wanted to help you do that.’

Our eyes meet, creating a bubble of shared reflection.

‘You felt responsible? For what?’

His face crumbles, his brows knit tightly, and he nods solemnly. ‘Everything. The accident. Your shattered heart. My shattered heart. All of it.’

My heart sinks through my chest. ‘Ash, that is so much to take on as a teen. You weren’t responsible for any of it.’

‘My mind knows that. But here…’ He presses his hand against his chest with a sense of desperation.

‘My heart refuses to accept it. But enough about that. On prom night, you managed to smile more than you cried and that helped me more than you’ll ever understand.

That night transformed me, etching itself as one of those pivotal memories I sometimes despise, because I remember everything. ’

He remembers everything? I am at a loss for words.

His heart stubbornly clings to the belief that he is to blame, and mine is racked with sorrow at the thought of him bearing this burden for so many years.

Yet on prom night, despite his torment, he summoned every ounce of strength to keep me smiling.

He wielded humor like a sword, danced with reckless abandon, and mastered the art of distraction with unmatched skill.

But I never would have guessed he was feeling this way inside.

I’m tempted to delve into this right now, but my heart screams to leave that Pandora’s box tightly shut until he’s ready – and for now, I’ll heed its warning. It’s time to wield my magic power and steer the conversation elsewhere.

‘Do you like cooking?’ I ask as I dice.

He gives me a sideways glance, aware that I’ve abruptly switched subjects mid-conversation. Yet, he’s gracious enough not to question it. ‘Love it.’

Right then, punctuating his words, my stomach lets out a howl loud enough to make Mitzi stir.

Without missing a beat, Asher heads to the fridge, retrieves a plate wrapped in foil – stripping away the cover as he crosses the kitchen – and puts it into the microwave.

‘I saved you a plate. Sit,’ he instructs, pointing at the island bar.

He saved me a plate?

‘Thank you,’ I say sincerely. ‘I probably shouldn’t tell you I hoped you’d do exactly this. My taste buds were in mourning.’

He seems pleased by my confession.

‘Well, I wouldn’t even think of leaving until both the ladies of the Gray household have been fed. It’s my job right now.’

Settling down where I’m directed, he catches sight of my haphazard attempt at dicing celery.

‘Uh – do you enjoy cooking?’ His tone carries more than a hint of doubt.

‘Not even a little bit, does it show?’ I admit, glancing at the celery before the smells coming from the plate now sitting in front of me distract my mind.

‘A little bit,’ he laughs.

‘Yeah, well, Mitzi had high hopes when hiring a chef that he would inspire me to learn.’

‘Is that so?’

I nod, my mind on the dish in front of me. ‘What magic have you woven here? It smells amazing.’

‘That is chicken tikka masala over white rice.’

I take the first bite, dropping my head back as I chew.

‘Holy everything. I didn’t lie before. My taste buds are in love with your cooking. You’re a culinary wizard, Mr Wright. How do you do it? I’ve had this before, and yours is leagues above.’

My compliments cause him to light up. ‘Actually, this one was Aaron’s recipe. I swiped it.’

‘Well, Aaron is a freaking genius then.’

‘Never tell him,’ Asher quips with a smile that could turn saints into sinners.

As I savor each mouthful of food, I notice his curious stare directed at my celery handiwork again.

‘Taking Mitzi’s hopes into consideration, along with this celery massacre, maybe you should come along with us tomorrow night.’

‘Who’s us? And what’s happening tomorrow night?’

‘Me and Aaron. Aaron and I?’ He questions his words. ‘Ya know, us.’

‘You two are a real team, aren’t you?’

‘He’s my little brother and best friend. He drags me to places like Vegas, and I force him to things like baking classes.’

Realizing how much losing Kris affected both our lives hits home; I’d never thought about how he had to form new friendships after everything turned upside down. And he’s chose his brother.

‘You’re going to a baking class? But I thought professional meant you taught the class?’

He smirks. ‘Sometimes it does. Other times – like when it comes to baking – legends know more than me, so I listen and learn. What do you say? Want to come with and learn something new?’

Do I say yes to this? Because I want to.

‘Um…’

‘Mitzi would be thrilled to hear you’re honing your culinary skills,’ he adds persuasively with mock innocence. ‘I’ll even pick you up and drop you off.’ His sly wink confirms what he’s up to – and maybe it’s working, because now I’m tempted beyond resistance.

I can’t stop staring at him unless I’m busy stuffing my mouth with his delicious dishes.

It’s clear that I should say no before I embarrass myself further.

But if I agree, he’s right – Mitzi will be happy.

Plus, I’ll have the chance to steer conversations and ensure Aaron doesn’t blurt out anything inappropriate.

‘And it’ll be a great way to get to know me— er, my cooking better, too,’ he says, cutting through my thoughts by skillfully using my own words against me.

I bite my lip, trying to contain a smile as he grins back at me, bashfully charming.

‘Guess there’s no escaping now, is there?’

‘Nope. You’re roped in. We leave after dinner tomorrow night.’

Unexpected excitement bubbles in my chest like champagne fizzing up in flutes. And the deal is sealed. I’m joining him and Aaron for a baking class with a legend. But first, I finish the masterpiece he’s made in front of me before I starve to death.