“I don’t tell stories.”
Then he quickly realized she wasn’t asking if he wanted to be the one to tell the story—she was asking if it wasokayto tell the story. The one no one knew.
On second thought, yeah, he better tell this one. “I mean, yeah, why not?” He didn’t have to tellallthe details—like the ones Zoey herself had only learned last week.
She twisted back around, and he took advantage of the excuse to loop his arms around her. Her proximity somehow simultaneously grounded and unsettled him. “So one summer, back when I was around fourteen, my fos—my, uh, aunt decided to host this cooking class for local kids.” Geez. One sentence in and he’d almost slipped.
“I remember that.” Cade grunted. “My mom tried to get me to sign up. Thankfully, my dad didn’t make me.”
“Too bad.” Rosalyn rolled her eyes. “Maybe then you wouldn’t burn water.”
“I don’t have to know how to cook. One of our best friends is a chef.” He grinned over her head at Elisa, who shook her head back.
“Anyway.” Linc shook his head. “Zoey came to the class.”
“Sothat’swhere it all began.” Owen nodded, eyes shining with approval. “Did you make beignets that first day?”
“We didn’t bake cookies, I can tell you that.” Zoey squeezed Linc’s hand.
The inside joke warmed his chest. He leaned around Zoey’s hair fluttering in the wind, proud of himself for not pausing to take a big whiff. “They were making gumbo. So, Zoey shows up?—”
She chuckled. “My scrawny, ten-year-old self.”
“I thought she was eight, tops.”
Zoey slapped his wrist.
“What? It’s important to the story.” He chuckled. “They were putting all the ingredients in the pot when I came through the kitchen?—”
“Too cool for school,” Zoey interjected.
“I wasnot.”
“You were so moody.” She turned around to look at him again, a smile playing on her lips. “Wore a leather jacket in the summer.”
Linc shrugged, unbothered. “That proves nothing.”
“Come on. You were like a cross between a teenage Mr. Darcy and Danny Zuko.”
He grimaced. “I know you’re not comparing me to a musical from the seventies.”
“But you don’t mind being compared to a brooding foot-in-his-mouth fictional hero?”
He held her gaze. “He got the girl, didn’t he?”
Linc only then realized the entire boatful of his friends were staring directly at them as if watching a movie, starry-eyed with giant grins. Except for Elisa, whose brow furrowed.
Aye. He’d gotten carried away.
Zoey’s questioning gaze held his, then once again, it seemed to register that he was flirting for pretenses. “I guess he did.”
“Technically, Danny got Sandy too,” Cade pointed out. “He just wore tighter pants.”
Linc looked away, shifted his weight under Zoey. “So anyway, they were cooking, and Zoey dropped half her ingredients and didn’t notice. I pointed out the shrimp, but she thought I wascallingher a shrimp, so she came after me.”
Rosalyn nearly sprayed her water. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”
“Jumped right on my back like a spider monkey.” Linc could still feel the weight of her, if he thought back hard enough. Her tiny fists pummeling his shoulders. “Started yelling for me to take it back.”
