Page 7 of Can't Kiss the Chef

“Lola wasn’t there. She was out buying groceries. She has some new recipe she wants to make.”

“Lola had nothing to do with whether I would have helped or not,” I tell my roommate as my knife slices through a head of lettuce.

The room grows hot under his gaze. I pull at the collar of my t-shirt.

Marcus looks me up and down before tilting his head. “Mhmm, sure. How much longer before dinner is ready?”

“Like fifteen minutes.”

“Cool, I’m going to shower then I’ll be right down.”

It takes me five minutes to finish the salad. So, I give Jalen a call after I switch out the pizzas in the oven.

I plop myself down on the carpeted floor in front of the television stretching my legs out in front of me. Coach had us moving in the freshman first thing this morning and then I came right home and started on dinner. Put a hockey stick in my hand and have me work the ice all day no problem, stand for twelve hours and suddenly my hamstrings feel like they are going to snap.

“Huhh”the groan leaves my lips in a cathartic moment that has me wondering how bad my joints are going to be in thirty years.

“Hey, By,” he says through staggered breaths. The familiar voice sounds weird on the other end of a FaceTime call. It still feels like he should be walking through the door at any moment.

The muffledhello sirof his doorman interrupts whatever he was going to say next. The apartment he and Ivy are renting in Manhattan is a far cry from the ones we grew up in Brooklyn.The thought that he lives in a two bedroom apartment in the heart of Manhattan is crazy to me.

“Dude, why are you so out of breath?”

“I’m just coming back from a run. We start training camp in a few weeks.”

“I still can’t believe that you are going to be playing in The Garden. It’s going to be insane.”

I hear a faint “Hey Babe” from Ivy when Jalen walks into their apartment. I watch the smile grow on her face as he wraps her in a hug. I patiently wait for their kiss to end, and when it lasts longer than a couple of seconds, I clear my throat.

Ivy’s cheeks turn a rosy shade of red, and I let out a little laugh.

“Man, I really haven’t missed walking in on your guys’ PDA every day.”

“You’re one to talk, Byron,” she grunts. “How many times did I walk in on you with some random girl on the couch?”

I put my hands up in surrender. When someone has you caught, it’s better to back down.

“How is school going, Ivy?” I ask her, trying to redirect the conversation.

“It’s good. It’s only been three weeks, but I finally feel like I’m getting the hang of living in the city. It’s just a little bit different from Westvale,” she jokes.

Jalen kisses the top of Ivy’s head before telling her he is going to do his cool down and shower before dinner.

Jalen stays on the call while he stretches so he can sit at the table for dinner with the guys.

Before I pull the last of the pizza out of the oven, I call the guys to the dinner table. I prop my phone up at the end of the table so he can join us and we fill him in on the first few days back in Westvale and the party we have planned for Saturday.

Jalen stops mid-sentence.

“Have you seen who Dalton Powell followed on Instagram today?”

“Who is that?” Josiah asks.

“He plays hockey at Hamilton. Jalen and Byron grew up playing against him. He is the most entitled prick you’ll ever meet.” Aaron fills him in.

“Yeah, well, now Lola is liking his pictures.”

All four pairs of eyes slowly look my way.

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