Page 276 of 7 Minutes in Sea Haven

“In the oven,” I promise her with a wink.

Our parents are out for the night, too, so Sera can’t say shit about any of it.

“What do you like on your potatoes?”

Kota’s smile returns, almost as big as when she came out of camp, then she launches into a description of her ideal baked potato.

I may not be able to change a tire on a car—yet—but I can make my girl her favorite food exactly the way she likes it. I can also make her scream for hours afterward.

I have to focus on the grain lines in the walnut table to keep from looking at him. Khaos is sitting across the table from me, his gaze searing the side of my face. He’s not directly across from me, thank God. Graham is, with my mom at the head, to his left and my right. Like all our previous family dinners, the parents are more into each other than their kids. I wish they would just stop these ridiculous affairs. We’re not a traditional family, even less so now that Khaos and I are together.

After a week of camp, I had yesterday and today off, but three-a-days start tomorrow, so I just want to eat and go to bed.

My eyes lift a fraction, barely enough to catch Khaos’s tongue run along that full bottom lip of his.

I just want to eat and go to bed with Khaos. We’re in the middle of a scandalous rivals-to-lovers mafia romance where the main characters have to sneak around. It’s even hotter when Khaos reads the book to me.

I’ve never listened to audiobooks before and I doubt I ever will after hearing Khaos read out loud. He’s ruined me for all other narrators. He may not get every emotion right but he always nails the spice.

My face heats up as I focus on my crab fried rice. As tasty as it is, I can’t help but think how much better Khaos’s cooking is. He’s been spoiling me, making me whatever I want each day our parents aren’t around. It’s not restaurant quality but it seems to be from the heart and I feel like that makes all the difference. Since ninety-five percent of my meals come from the freezer, I appreciate the effort he’s been putting in to give me fresh food I actually like.

He gives me everything I like, everything I want. It’s always about me, and he never complains, never makes me feel bad.

That hasn’t stopped me from feeling bad all on my own. I can’t help it. It was practically programmed into me by Guy with his constant guilt trips. Cheer just started and our seasons are long, longer than most sports, except for combat sports like boxing, which is all year round.

If he had something to keep him busy during the day, maybe I wouldn’t worry so much.

As long as it’s not another girl.

Been there, done that, got the irreparable heart wound to prove it.

I know he already has a job but the shifts are at night and…erratic. He needs something more reliable.

Cooking. There’s always a need for cooking, especially in this house, where there’s none.

“We should have Khaos cook for us next time,” I suggest.

My mom side-eyes me, asking, “Why? Is Cordon You not good enough for you? It’s the only restaurant in Sea Haven to get all five-star reviews.”