As I peeked again, I realized he was staring at me. Those almond-shaped hazel eyes, so rare, so captivating, locked onto mine. He smiled, his dimples deepening. I jerked my gaze back to my book, heat creeping up my neck.
“Why are you looking at me?” he asked, his voice teasing.
“I’m not looking at you,” I shot back. “Get over yourself.”
“Maybe you’re the one who still needs to get over me.”
I slammed my book shut. “May I remind you that I broke up with you?”
Jiro leaned forward, resting his arm on the table. The sleeve of his uniform tightened around his bicep as he scratched his chin, a move so calculated I almost laughed at the absurdity.
I looked away, sneering loudly.Focus, Akiko. The prize, not the past. Jiro might be handsome, but that wasn’t going to last.Winning this apprenticeship would define my future. What did he have? Great hair and a gym membership?
Still, my mind betrayed me, conjuring memories of his arm around my waist and his lips brushing my cheek. I clenched my fist under the table, forcing myself to shove those thoughts aside.
“Can you stop breathing?” I snapped, unable to take the sound any longer.
“You want me to stop breathing?” he asked, amused.
“Yes. I mean, stop breathing so loud.”
Jiro chuckled, low and deep. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave you to your studies.”
He closed his book and slid it across the table toward me. “Try this one. You might find it enlightening.”
His fingers brushed mine as he passed it over. The contact sent a tingle up my arm. His smile held just enough mystery to leave me guessing.
“You’ll need it,” he added softly.
I watched, frozen, as he stood. His V-shaped torso and confident stride were annoyingly distracting. As he passed behind me, his hand rested on my shoulder for a moment. A lingering, deliberate touch made me shiver. He leaned in.
“Good luck, Akiko.” His breath tickled my ear.
I didn’t turn around as he left, the door softly closing behind him. My fingers instinctively traced the spot where his hand had been on my shoulder. The warmth faded quickly, replaced by an unsettling chill.
“Good luck.” What did he mean by that?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I sat alone in the library, staring at a book on mukimono—the Japanese art of carving fruits and vegetables into intricate designs. It wasn’t unique to sushi chefs but was often used to elevate plating. I had a basic understanding of it: petaled flowers from carrots, roses from tomatoes, tall grass from cucumbers. Once, I’d even created a floral design in the cross section of a sushi roll. Nothing fancy.
As I flipped through the pages, I couldn’t shake the thought: Did Jiro have inside information about the next challenge? And if he did, why share it with me? He was my rival.
Reina’s words echoed in my mind.“The challenges are designed to be deceptively easy.”
I traced the edge of the page with my finger, my thoughts spiraling. If mukimono was part of the next challenge, it wouldn’t be as simple as carving pretty designs. There had to be more to it. But what did Jiro gain by pointing me to this? Did he genuinely not want to see me hurt, or was this another layer of the competition, a trap meant to trip me up?
The door to the library swung open, and Kenji burst in, startling me out of my thoughts. I nearly jumped out of my seat.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He placed two bento boxes on the table and sat down beside me. “Lunch in the dining room was canceled. These were left outside everyone’s rooms.”
“Wow, time flew by.” I glanced at my watch. “Thanks for bringing mine. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“No worries.” He popped the lid off his box and stuffed a piece of fish into his mouth. “Find anything useful?”
I slid the book across the table. “Mukimono. I think the next challenge involves this.”
Kenji raised an eyebrow, chewing thoughtfully. “So, whoever makes the fanciest flower wins?”
