Page 44 of Simmer Down
I grin down at our joined hands. It’s one of the best compliments I could ever want, when my biggest competition admits how good I am.
Competition.
The joy is gone when I remember what’s at stake, how we’ve upped the ante by sleeping together last night and spending all day together.
And then I remember that promise I made to myself a little over a year ago, when I lost one of the most important people in my life.
“Listen, we should—”
The mad scientist sandwich maker returns, a wax paper–wrapped sandwich in each hand. I thank him, then stare at the table. Callum starts to tear open his sandwich, some delicious-smelling creationwith kimchi, bulgogi beef, and fried sweet potato noodles. But when he notices me fumbling with my paper, he stops.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t mean to spoil this day. Spending it with you has been the best, but aren’t you concerned about what’s going to happen when we go back home and this time-out officially ends?”
When he frowns, I clarify. “We’re competitors, Callum. When we get back to Maui, we’ll be going head-to-head with each other every day, just like before. The Maui Food Festival is in less than a month. One of us is going to lose at the end of it. We can’t exist like this when so much is at stake.”
He frowns. “What exactly is at stake?”
I peel the wrapper off my sandwich. “My mom’s retirement savings. My career. Our livelihood.”
My feelings, my emotional well-being, the fact that I can’t have anything close to a relationship because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I won’t have the strength to make it through the inevitable end.
“How exactly?” he asks.
“Don’t you remember what Matteo said about last year’s winner? They lost the prize money when everyone found out they buddied up with another restaurant. You think they’d just let it slide if they found out about us?”
He squints at me, like he’s waiting for me to explain further, but I can’t fathom how he doesn’t understand what I’m talking about.
“Look, twenty thousand dollars could change my and my mom’s life. I don’t want... I can’t afford to lose out on that if somehow we win, and people find out that Tiva’s and Hungry Chaps were screwing around with each other.”
It’s not just that though. My doubts run deeper, but I’m not brave enough to say this next part out loud.
If Callum and I were crazy enough to make it official, it would most certainly end. Once a winner is declared, one of us will have to vacate that spot in Makena. That would sow resentment, jealousy, maybe even hatred. It would be the end for us, and I would be destroyed, just like I was when I lost my dad.
I won’t—I can’t survive another loss.
I take another breath to steady myself. No sense spilling all my emotional baggage to Callum. He doesn’t deserve to get bogged down in my past, in my pain. I opt for a PG-rated version of the truth.
“I like you, Callum. But my work and my mom are my priority. I can’t compromise on those; they mean too much to me. I just don’t have the energy to add anything more to my life right now when I’m juggling so much.”
Callum takes a sip from his beer bottle. His face turns stony, but after he swallows, he’s soft again. “So what exactly does that mean?”
“It means I can’t do a relationship.”
His eyes shine as he gazes at me. “We don’t have to make this into some big thing, Nikki. I’m willing to keep things physical and casual, nothing more. I’m going back to Chicago after the festival anyway. Until then, we can keep work at work and quietly see each other in our free time. If that’s what you want.”
I sip from my beer bottle, hoping the icy liquid cools the flush running through me. Just the mention of us in bed brings back all the hot memories from last night and this morning. It’s been forever since I’ve been with anyone, and I almost forgot just how divine it feels to enjoy regular orgasms, to wake up cuddled next to someone you’re insanely attracted to.
I’ve done hookups before, but not in an official no-strings-attached agreement like this. Can I manage this with Callum? Can I have him in my bed at night after competing against him all day, every day?
I have no idea.
I pause for another sip of beer. Maybe since we’re stipulating that this is casual and there’s an expiration date, we can swing it. I sure as hell would like to try.
“I’d like that,” I say. “But only if you’re okay with it too.”
“I’m fine with it.” This time when he smiles, it looks more like he’s pursing his lips.
