“What exactly is your issue with it?” a teasing female voice chimed in—undoubtedly Ivy, tossing more fuel on the fire.
“It can’t be both puddingandJell-O! That level of culinary arrogance is offensive. The texture is wrong, the taste is bizarre, and you don’t toss eggs into a pudding and call it a day! The taste and how it feels in my mouth is weird,” Owen declared with dramatic flair.
“Pretty sure that’s not the first time you’ve ever said that,” Ivy shot back dryly, laughter immediately following.
Despite her nerves, Aurelia smiled as they entered the living room.
As soon as they stepped inside, all eyes turned toward them.
Without thinking, she blurted out, “If you think flan’s an abomination, I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on the rice pudding I brought.”
Silence.
Panic set in.Why can’t I stop making awkward jokes?
And then laughter erupted.
Owen looked vaguely horrified, clearly remembering their…shared history, while the others practically howled. Levi laughed too, his eyes warm as he shot her a look of pure admiration.
The laughter barely subsided before she was swept into a flurry of hugs and congratulations. It was overwhelming and entirely too much physical affection for someone who had carefully built walls for most of her life.
Sensing her discomfort, Levi cut through the crowd, creating space with a commanding but kind, “Alright, alright. Let her breathe.”
Aurelia threw him a grateful glance as a beautiful auburn-haired woman stepped forward, her hazel eyes warm and welcoming.
“I’m Grace,” she said brightly, taking the rice pudding from Aurelia’s hands without hesitation. “And this troublemaker overhere—” she gestured toward a caramel-skinned woman perched at the kitchen island, fingers wiggling in greeting, “—is Ivy. That handsome man in red is my husband, Isaac, and I’m sure you remember Owen.”
Isaac offered a warm smile from the couch, his deep blue eyes crinkling against his mocha skin and neatly trimmed beard.
“Oh, I’m sure Aurelia remembers me,” Owen chirped with far too much confidence.
“No matter how hard we try to forget,” Levi muttered.
Unfazed, Owen turned back to Aurelia. “Now, the real question—where do you stand on the hotly debated topic of flan? Choose your words carefully. This is a defining moment.”
“Except it’s not,” Isaac interjected with a roll of his eyes.
“I caught some of the debate on the way in,” Aurelia said, feeling bolder now. “And while flan is technically a custard, I wouldn’t call it a personal favorite. Ididbring rice pudding, so that probably answers your question.”
Owen’s face twisted in horror. “Why—why would youdothat?”
She shrugged, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I don’t know…maybe next time you can sneak over and watch through my kitchen window to find out.”
The color drained from Owen’s face as everyone burst into another round of laughter. He clapped a hand over his heart. “Touché, Aurelia. Touché.”
Before anyone could recover, Owen stood dramatically. “I, uh…need to find that champagne bottle I bought. Probably rolled under the car seat. Be right back!”
As Owen disappeared, Levi shot her a proud, knowing smile.
Ivy patted the stool beside her, an open invitation. “Come sit. And tell us everything about your hair. It’samazing. I could never pull that off,” she gushed.
Aurelia found herself sliding into the seat, feeling more relaxed by the second.
“Would you like some wine?” Ivy asked, lifting an empty bottle with a playful grin.
Aurelia winced apologetically. “Not really a drinker. I’ve never developed a taste for it.”
“Oh, me neither,” Grace chimed in. “Unless it’s something sweet that barely tastes like alcohol, I’m out. Although, dealing with Owen may drive you to it.”