“It’s cool, Dahls,” Cath said. “London will kill the main course. And you know there’s no way Lizzie will beat them on dessert.”
“Cath,” Dahlia said, looking at her. “Lizzie wants to open a fucking bakery.”
“Yeah,” Cath said calmly. “And there are a ton of mediocre bakeries. London’s better.”
Dahlia sat back up. Nodded. “You’re right.”
“I always am, Dahls,” Cath said.
Dahlia’s nerves started to settle slightly during the main course, mainly just because it took a long time, and her nervous system probably would have imploded if she hadn’t calmed down a smidge.
Plus, the more she watched London cooking, the more turned on she got. So there was also that. She hoped it wasn’t too obvious, the fact that all of the blood in her body was rushing toward specific places. It felt like it had been ten years since she’d last seen them. Damn, it was hot in here with these lights. She was certain they had installed extra lights today.
It seemed like the judges liked London’s duck. A lot.
But they also liked Lizzie’s lamb.
“I’m going to die,” Dahlia whispered.
Barbara gave her hand a squeeze. Cath was leaning forward in her chair now, backward baseball cap on. She was silent, too, but gave Dahlia a quick nudge with her knee.
London swiped the back of their hand over their forehead as they walked back to their station to start prepping for dessert. They looked tired now. Dahlia wondered if anyone would mind if she just popped down, real quick, to kiss them.
London was making a coconut key lime pie. Lizzie was making macarons. Dahlia was worried. Macarons seemed more technically advanced, more impressive. Dahlia sat up straight and made sure she was breathing from her abdomen. She focused on this, inhaling and exhaling, and watched.
She could tell when it was done that London was pleased. They even smiled a bit. They plated three perfect slices, sprinkled on toasted coconut and an extra dollop of whipped cream for presentation. They stood back from their station, hands on their hips. Their hair flopped down over their eyes. They needed a haircut, Dahlia thought absently.
And then she realized they were done.
London had officially finished their last meal onChef’s Special.
Dahlia’s heart started to swell when Audra took an extra bite of London’s pie. And then Tanner took an extra bite of his.
Sai Patel ate the whole slice.
The judges left the stage to deliberate, and London and Lizzie had a break.
“Don’t you want to go down there?” Barbara asked as London walked over to their family.
Dahlia watched Julie jump out of her seat and hug them. She reached up and yanked on London’s hair and said something. Dahlia smiled, wondering if she had just told them to get a haircut.
Then Julie ran her finger near London’s left eye.
Dahlia could make it out slightly, even from a distance. Maybe some eyeliner action? London with makeup. God, it was sexy as hell.
“Not yet,” Dahlia said to Barbara. She watched Charlotte run a reassuring hand along London’s shoulder.
She had met them all this morning, in the lobby of the hotel. It felt . . . strange, meeting them without London, but Julie had pulled her into a death grip hug as soon as she’d seen Dahlia slinking by. So Dahlia had hugged her back, and then hugged all of them, and it had felt good.
Well, she hugged everyone except for London’s dad. Who remained seated now.
And then London looked up at the rest of the audience, put a hand over their eyes, squinting.
Dahlia’s stomachswooshed.
They found her. Dropped their hand.
And slowly, adorably, they grinned.
