“Of course I do. How could I forget? Just because we’re not together doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the good times.”
My cheeks burned, and I glanced away. The intensity in his eyes was too much. It always had been. Back then, it made me melt. Now, it made me…shy.
“Jiro,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “What exactly are you after here? You’re antagonizing me one minute, and the next, you’re saying I’m the best chef here. What’s your angle?”
“No angle,” he said with a shrug. “I saw you in trouble and stepped in. If your…boyfriend had been here, I wouldn’t have had to.”
“Kenji’s not my boyfriend,” I snapped. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Jiro’s smirk returned. “You’re right. It’s not my business. But for what it’s worth, I meant what I said. You’re the one to beat. You deserve to win this. But unfortunately, skill isn’t what decides the winner.”
My stomach tightened. “You mean because the points don’t matter?”
“It’s not about points either,” Jiro said. “It’s about survival. That’s why you might lose to the worst chef here.”
My body tensed. “And who’s the worst chef here?”
Jiro’s smirk flatlined. “Your buddy, Kenji.”
At first, his words hit me like a punch, but then I wanted to laugh and dismiss them as jealousy or manipulation. But the look on his face was calm and confident. It rattled me.
“I’d be careful about his real intentions,” Jiro said, his voice low. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, Akiko.”
That’s two people who have now warned me about Kenji.
With that, he walked away, leaving me confused. I wanted to chase after him and demand answers, but I didn’t. This was Jiro. I had to assume he was playing mind games, trying to drive a wedge between me and Kenji. Still, Jiro had never been one to mince words.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I tossed and turned on the hard mattress, my body aching no matter how I lay. Even my flat pillow had lost its cool side. But it wasn’t the discomfort keeping me awake. It was Jiro. His words from earlier stuck in my mind like a pebble in my shoe. Impossible to ignore.
When we parted during our final year at university, Jiro didn’t take the breakup well. His ego was bruised by my repeated rejections of his attempts to get back together. After that, we became enemies, or at least it felt that way. Whenever I caught him glancing in my direction, his expression would sour.
Breaking up with your first love isn’t easy. It’s messy and leaves you limping through life for a while. I hadn’t realized how intertwined we were until I rearranged my entire schedule to avoid him—switching gym times, staying out of the library at night, even grocery shopping at dawn. Avoiding an ex is exhausting.
After I graduated, Jiro mostly faded from my life, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t erase your first love entirely. His resurfacing here, of all places, had brought a fresh ache. Breaking up with him, though, had been the right decision. We wanted different things. I craved stability; he chased adventure. We were never going to align.
So why did his words from earlier make me feel something? Did I still have feelings for him? No, no way. Not possible.
Sounds like someone has a crush.
Quiet. You don’t know anything.
Jiro and Akiko sitting in a tree…
Finish that song, and I swear I’ll?—
What? Punch yourself in the face?
I groaned and sat up, running a hand through my tangled hair. “Get it together, Akiko,” I mumbled to myself as I stretched my arms high above my head. This wasn’t a summer camp romance or some twisted second-chance love story. This was a competition. A deadly one.
Soooo, flirting with Kenji is fine, but Jiro’s off limits?
It’s not the same thing.
Oh, really? Care to elaborate?
Grrrr.
