CONSTANTINE
Fake it tillyou make it.Isn’t that what they say?
I don’t feel the confidence and carefree attitude I’m determined to show Julius, but there is one thing I don’t have to fake. This will be the best batch of triple chocolate brownies he has ever tasted.
I know my way around a kitchen, so I throw out the burned brownies and give the oven a quick clean. The oven timer is counting down from four hours, so if I were a betting man, I’d say the kid who ran out of the kitchen like a bat out of hell didn’t see it was set for the brownies and set it for the toast currently in the trash, still smoking a little.
On top of mixing up the timers, he set them to hours instead of minutes. No wonder the kitchen looked like it was on fire when I arrived at Bittersweet, hoping for the break I so desperately need.
Five minutes later, Julius has freshly buttered toast for his customer and the area is spotless and ready for my magic. Just one more thing.
Take the stinky trash out so I can breathe again.
When I return to the kitchen, Leo is sitting on the stool by the kitchen island.
“You never said he was hot. LikeMountain Menmagazine hot,” he says, holding a half-empty water bottle.
“That’s not a real thing.” I look inside the cabinets to find the ingredients I’ll need.
“Not the point. He’s hot.”
“Is he? I didn’t notice.”
Leo laughs. “Sure you didn’t.”
Okay, I did. But I’m not going to own up to it. Besides, it’s not like I can flirt with the man I’m counting on to give me a job and a place to live. Right?
“Are you going to help or just stand there?”
Leo tenses, his hands gripping the bottle tight until it bends under his fingers. He seems to notice what he’s doing and releases the bottle, hiding his hands between his legs. “I can’t. What if…?”
This is something he’s doing more of. Hiding. Pulling away. I’m still not sure the move to Stillwater is a good one for us, for him, but I have to try.
Buckle up, Constantine.
“Do you have any cuts on your hands?” I ask.
“No.”
“Did you take your meds on time?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, right now, our biggest worry is me getting this job so we have somewhere to sleep tonight.”
He nods. “Right.”
“Besides—”
“It can’t spread through food preparation. I know.”
Sometimes, I’m not sure if he struggles to apply the stuff he knows to real life or if he’s being a little shit like teenagers often are.
I open the fridge and grab the butter. There’s also a block of cheese, which gives me an idea.
“Have you ever baked scones?”
Leo snorts. “Sure, I like to whip up a batch for stress relief. You know, between classes, doctor appointments, and Mom abandoning me.”
