I shake my head, still smiling as I roll up to the register. Lucy is behind the counter, smacking her gum and scrolling through her phone between customers.
“Hey, Esteban,” she says, finally looking up. “That all for tonight?”
“Yep.”
“Ooh, are you cooking for a friend?”
I give her a wink. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.”
She laughs and starts scanning my stuff. “Tell your mama I said hi.”
“I will.”
I bag the groceries and load them into the truck, heart beating a little faster now. I know it’s just dinner. I know it’s just Eva. I know we’re pretending, but this feels real enough that I want it to be.
Back at my place, I set everything on the kitchen counter and go take the fastest shower known to man, dressing in a pair of grey joggers and a green shirt. I fix my hair so it lookscool then walk to the kitchen where I ask Alexa to play some music, something chill with guitar and a beat, and get to work. The chimichurri comes first, everything chopped fine and blended just right, the smell already making my stomach growl. The churrasco gets seasoned and set in the pan to cook slowly. Salad next, simple and fresh. Then I toss the tostones and glance at the clock.
She’ll be here soon. And suddenly, that feels like the best part of my whole damn day.
I finish with the food when the sound of Eva’s car pulling up makes me glance at the clock. Right on time.
A minute later, there’s a knock at the door. When I open it, she’s standing there with her cheeks pink from the cold, bundled up in a puffy white jacket, black leggings hugging her legs, and snow-white boots. Her dark hair spills over her shoulders in waves, and all I can think about is how much I want to see her without all that winter gear.
Key West can’t come soon enough.
“Hey,” she says with a smile. “It smells divine in here.”
“That’s because I cook with love,” I say, stepping aside so she can come in. She gives me a look, one of those half eye-rolls she does when she’s pretending not to be charmed. But I know she is.
I lead her into the kitchen, where the plates are already waiting. “Take a seat. I’ll dish everything out.”
She shrugs out of her jacket and helps me grab drinks from the fridge sparkling water for her, a cold beer for me.
“This looks amazing. What is this?” she says, staring at the plates like she’s ready to marry the food.
“You’ve never had churrasco?”
“Nope.” She shakes her head. “This is my first time.”
“Then I feel honored. And slightly pressured.”
She laughs, takes a bite, and moans loudly. “Oh my God. Esteban. Why is this so good?”
I smirk. “Because I’m good at everything I do.”
“You really are insufferable.”
“Gracias.”
We eat, the conversation flowing easy. I’m trying to focus on her words, not the way her lips shine when she licks chimichurri off them, or the little pleased noises she makes every time she takes a bite.
Between bites, I lean back and say, “So… Key West is officially a go. We leave this weekend.”
“Seriously?” she grins. “That’s so soon!”
“Yeah. I’m booking our plane tickets now, unless you prefer to make the drive with me.”
She narrows her eyes. “Plane. Absolutely plane.”
