The microwave dings indicating the potatoes are done. Without asking, Evan walks over and takes them out, piercing each to make sure it’s done. About the time I’m taking the asparagus off the stove, the steak timer beeps.
“I’ll get them,” Evan offers, picking up a clean plate.
By the time he returns with the steaks, I’ve got everything else on our plates.
“Toppings for the potatoes are on the table. Do you want another glass of wine?”
“Yes, please.” Evan picks up both plates and takes them to the table while I pour us wine and grab forks and knives. I appreciate the help. This happens at his house all the time. He insists on cooking for me, but we end up working in together.
“This looks delicious,” Evan gushes as I join him at the table.
“It’s my favorite meal to cook. I’m not the chef you are, but I do okay with the few things I know how to cook.” I ramble on, a little more nervous than I expected to be with Evan in my home.
I like him so much and I want everything to be perfect for him, but I worry that he likes me for reasons other than my sparkling personality. It pisses me off that he’s the first guy I’ve liked since Devante was such an ass to me, and I’m struggling to enjoy our time together because I keep reliving that past relationship.
A small moan from Evan grabs my attention. I smile and raise a brow at him. “You okay?”
“This steak is heaven. It’s the best steak I’ve ever had, and I’ve had some damn good steaks. What’s the seasoning?”
I can’t help but beam with pride at his words. “It’s my own secret blend.” I wink.
“You should package this stuff.” He moans again on the next bite. “Wait. You aren’t going to tell me what’s in it, are you?”
“I told you, it’s mysecretblend.” It’s so fun to watch the look of horror cross Evan’s face. He can’t believe I’m not giving up the ingredients. I shrug nonchalantly and take another bite of asparagus, making every effort not to look at him.
“But…” he starts.
“Ple…” he tries again.
“Isa…” he trails off a third time. This time, I glance at him. There’s no humor in his eyes. Confusion. Hurt. Shock, but no humor. It cracks me up.
“Why are you laughing at me?” he all but whines.
“Baby, I’m not laughing at you. It’s cute to watch you try to figure out what to say. Okay, yeah, I’m laughing at you. I’m also screwing with you. The blend isn’t a secret and it’s not my creation.”
“What? You’ve been fucking with me this entire time?” A smile slowly appears lighting up his face. “I fell right into that, didn’t I?”
“Yep.”
“You’re proud of yourself.” It’s not a question and accompanies the sexiest damn smirk.
“Extremely.” I wink, rising from the table.
I kiss Evan on the cheek then walk to the counter to grab the bottle of wine and the shaker of steak seasoning. After adding wine to our glasses, I place the seasoning in front of Evan. “This is the best blend on the market. I get it at a specialty shop in Little Havana.”
“It’s fantastic.”
“They have the best fresh produce, a variety of spices, marinades, dressings, and other specialty items that can’t be found in most grocery stores.”
“We’ll have to go one day. I like trying new spices and marinades.”
“It’s a date!”
Evan’s eyes widen slightly then he looks away in an attempt to cover his surprise. I don’t call him out on it, but I can’t help wondering why he still gets surprised when I mention dates. He’s my boyfriend for fucks’ sake.
I know he says it doesn’t bother him that I want to keep our relationship a secret, but I don’t think he’s being completely honest about his feelings. Maybe I’m wrong and he doesn’t mind keeping us a secret and there’s another reason for his shock.
He still won’t look at me as he starts clearing the table and washing the dishes. Now the silence between has grown uncomfortable. Where did the night go wrong?