“I didn’t smell your breath, silly. I always feel the need to smell you. I can’t fucking explain it. It’s the damnedest thing.” I shrugged my shoulder.
I sounded so creepy, but I loved his smell and couldn’t get enough of it.
“You’re a bigger freak than I thought,” he laughed and smacked my ass as I walked out the door.
“How about we go to the store and then come back and cook some food?” he asked me with a smirk.
Kayden and I often went back and forth about who could cook the best. He cooked for me in New Orleans, but I had a few items in my arsenal that could not be beat. My meatballs were fantastic—he claimed his were better. This was the day we would finally put the matter to rest.
“Okay, I’m going to make my meatballs. Then you tell me if yours are better,” I stated with a laugh. I knew I had this one in the bag.
“When you’re done with your coffee, we’ll go to the store and settle the matter,” he said as he kissed me on the lips.
* * *
We walked the aisles, and I threw my ingredients into the cart. I wanted not only to impress him, but his parents too. He decided to make soup for everyone.
“You have strange ingredients for your meatballs,” Kayden said as he stared down.
“You’ll see,” I said coyly.
We checked out and headed back to his parents. I was ready to work my magic. We had the house to ourselves. We both began chopping our vegetables, garlic, and onion. I mixed all of my ingredients for my meatballs. A quick sauce simmered to cook them in, the aroma filling the air. I took my time forming each ball perfectly and placing them in the sauce.
The moment of truth had arrived. I selected a meatball and put it on a plate for Kayden to taste. I watched as he cut into it and smelled it before placing it in his mouth. He chewed slowly and kept his eyes locked on mine.
“They’re great, but mine are still better,” he said as he licked his lips. He wasn’t going to answer truthfully. He couldn’t be the judge of this competition.
His mother walked in the door and greeted us with a smile.
“What are you two up to?” she asked as she sat on a barstool at the counter.
“We decided to cook. Sophia made meatballs, which she claims are the best, and I made soup. Would you like some?” he asked.
“Sure, I’d love to try both,” she replied.
She sipped the soup and complimented him on how good it tasted. She was right. It was delicious. She cut the meatball and placed a piece in her mouth. She chewed, and Kayden and I glanced at each other and then at her. We waited for her response.
“These may be better than my meatballs,” she said as she popped another sliver in her mouth.
I beamed with pride, turning to him with a grin.
“When do I get to taste yours, Kayden?” I asked.
“I’ll never make mine for you. No way in hell,” he said to me with a small pout.
“Aw, come on. You have to make them for me,” I pleaded.
“No, Sophia. You win. Yours are great. Mine are bland in comparison,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.
We were unsure of what to do while visiting his parents. He lived in this town for years with his ex-girlfriend, Lisa. The ex who had him arrested and the reason he was on probation. I didn’t want to run into her during our visit.
That evening we returned to his parents’ social club to spend time with them since we would be leaving the next morning, and he would be flying back to New Orleans. A band was playing music from decades ago, and the people moved around the dance floor with grace.
An older woman approached the table. She reached out and ran her fingers across his head. “Hey, Kayden, want to dance with this old woman?”
Kayden smiled and laughed, “Thanks, Edy, but I don’t think my girlfriend would like that much.”
“I would…” Something hard hit my leg under the table.
