Page 127 of Falling Backwards
Imaginings of her in my clothes try to come back—and ones of heroutof them—or out of hers—and she’d be giving me a moan over somethingnot-innocent that I—whew, God.
Okay, who’s the creep now?
Except I’m not truly being gross, because there’s no denying that Maggie is much more to me than just a gorgeous girl.She’s a part of—
“You know,” she says, startling me, “I honestly think I could eat that hollandaise with a spoon.”
She didn’t notice me falling into my head.
“I wish I knew how to make it at home,” she goes on.“Then I could have it anytime.But it’s not like I have a lot of confidence in my ability to make even a decent hollandaise, let alone a magnificent one.”
Food-unrelated heat aside, that has me chuckling.
She joins in on it, which chills me out even as it deeply pleases me.
I say, “I, too, could eat it with a spoon, and I actually have tried making hollandaise at home.”
Her little gasp is excited.“Really?How was it?”
My laughter grows.“Uh….”
“Don’t be modest!Was it fantastic?Can you teach me how to make it?”
“Teach—?Fuck no!”A full laugh erupts from me.“It was inedible!I said Itriedto make it, not that I did!”
Surprise and sympathy burst through her expression like fireworks, widening and brightening her eyes.Then she’s exploding into laughter too.
And if I thought her mere chuckles went deep through me, I didn’t know what‘deep’meant.
This sound right here just about wrecks me.
“Oh no,” bubbles out of her as she presses a hand to her chest, grinning.“It wasinedible?”
I don’t know how my lungs work well enough to keep me laughing with her.“Yeah!”
“What happened?”
“I….”Shrugging, I think back to how aggravating and disappointing my attempts were.“I don’t know if the recipe instructions were bad or if I followed them horribly, but my first try was undercooked—like, truly had a raw-egg taste—and the second was overcooked to death.Super lumpy and gross.”
She’s cracking up so much her face is growing pink.“Oh no!”she says again.
With a groan, I lament, “I just couldn’t get it right.And I had everything else ready to go!”
“You didn’t!”she refuses, matching my tone.Her brow pinches with fresh sympathy even as she goes on grinning.“You had the poached eggs ready and everything?”
“Yes!I mean, they weren’t great either ’cause I overcooked them, too, but the prosciutto was awesome!I got all fancy and crisped up some prosciutto to, like, this…thiscompletelyperfect….”
We’re both laughing so hard now that we have to stop walking.She drops her face into her hands as her shoulders shake, and I hold where my left side is starting to cramp.
“Holy shit,” I hear her muffle out.“Perfect prosciutto, sad everything else.”
“I know.”
She pulls her hands away and fans at her face.“Oh, Luke, my eyes are watering.”
I see she means that, and I swear to God, the sense of pride filling my chest is like none I’ve felt before.It blazes just as much as the sexy thoughts from earlier did, makes me feel just as hot as they did; I know my cheeks have colored like hers.
Even teenage-me didn’t love making teenage-her laugh this much.
