Page 63 of The Trophy

The food looks and smells spectacular but that’s nothing compared to the explosion of flavor that coats my tongue when I take the first mouthful.

“This is delicious,” I compliment her. “Where did you learn to cook like that?”

I mean, can this girl get any more perfect?

“Nana was adamant that any woman should be able to master a few dishes,” she says with a light shrug of her shoulders. “Besides as you know, I like to eat, so it was a win-win.”

I shove another forkful of food in my mouth. “You know that I love that about you.”

A cute blush spreads on her face and I realize that I just used the L-word.

Well, fuck it.

Unless she decides I’m not the one, I can totally see a future with Lakyn.

I react with a smile, not taking back what I said and she beams back at me, her blue eyes full of an intensity that makes me hope my feelings aren’t unrequited.

Before I know it, my plate is empty.

“Would you like some more?” she offers.

“I would love some more if you don’t mind,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck, a little embarrassed. “Breakfast was a long time ago and practice was a shit show. When I got home, I made myself a sandwich and then crashed for a couple of hours. I wanted to be rested to enjoy our date. I didn’t realize how much I was starving, until I tasted your awesome lasagna.”

“There’s plenty more, Cash,” she says, putting a big serving of it on my plate. “Have as much as you want.”

I don’t make her offer twice and by the time I set down my cutlery on my empty plate—after a third helping—the oven dish is completely empty.

“I hope you weren’t counting on having leftovers,” I say, realizing that I behaved like someone who hasn’t had a proper meal in weeks. “But it was the best lasagna I’ve ever had, Lake.”

Her smile looks genuine. “I got us some ice cream for dessert. I thought we could make sundaes?”

“That sounds delicious,” I say, taking her hand into mine. “But only if you let me help. You must have spent all day cooking.”

“I didn’t have anything else that needed my urgent attention,” she reassures me with another one of those cute little shrugs. “Besides, I was excited to finally get to spend some time together and there are a few things I wanted to talk to you about.”

My heart skips a beat.

Is she about to dump me? I mean, has anything good ever come after the words “we need to talk?”

I know she didn’t say that verbatim, but it’s close enough.

“Oh,” I say, encouraged by the fact that she hasn’t let go of my hand as she rises from her chair to go get everything we need to make sundaes. “Anything I should be worried about?”

Her smile fades a little and that doesn’t bode well. My breath catches in my throat way more than earlier today when I was skating endless laps of the ice rink with the equivalent of a bag of rocks on my back.

“Maybe,” she says.

Fuck.

Was this delicious dinner the equivalent of an inmate’s last meal before execution?

Lakyn’s demeanor doesn’t suggest that she really is about to dump me, but what do I know?

Neither of us says anything as we fix our sundaes and by the time I follow Lakyn to her couch, my appetite is nowhere to be seen.

LAKYN

This is the hardest part of our date.

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