The engine starts, and he waves good-bye to me one more time as his beat-up Wrangler pulls into traffic. I take another breath, preparing myself for Bette, and walk back in to Art on Wells.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Todd

I knock on Noodle’s door, questioning every movement. We’ll see each other tonight, but I couldn’t wait.

Two minutes ago, I was lying on my couch, watching the highlights from last night’s game. Now, I’m here, knocking on Noodle’s door.

She opens it, and I look her over. I reach her eyes, and I notice her sink herself back. My admiration made her uncomfortable.

“Hey, Noodle. Want to go find a hidden gem?”

Her eyes light up. “I’d love to. Come in.”

She leaves me at the door and disappears down the hall, and I follow her. All the times I’ve been to her apartment, I’ve never seen her bedroom.

“I just have to shut down my computer!” she screams.

I push back the chuckle from her not knowing that I’m behind her.

“Okay.”

She startles and places her hand over her heart. “Oh. I didn’t know you followed me.” Her face reddens, and she does a quick scan of the room, probably looking for dirty clothes or something.

She should know by now that I don’t judge.

“I’ve never seen your room.” I peruse around, noticing her gray walls with white comforter. She’s a minimalist. I never would have guessed. The only difference between her and me is her framed artwork on the walls—some with vibrant colors, others black and white. I stand in front of one, trying to figure out its meaning. I’ve never been good at the whole art-speaks-to-me thing.

“I know they don’t match. I buy them because each one says something to me. One is for when I’m sad, and another is for when I’m hopeful. Stupid, I know.”

She busies herself with her computer, and I abandon the canvas I know nothing about.

“Never stupid.” I sit on her bed, waiting for her.

She looks up and graces me with one of her soft smiles.

“You’re sweet.”

“No, I’m not really.”

She shuts the top of her laptop and tosses it on the bed.

“Let’s go.” She grabs her purse and leaves me in her room. “Do you have a place in mind, or are we on a search?”

“I have a place I’ve been dying to try. A friend from culinary school owns it.”

I rush to open the door, and the look of surprise on her face brings a smile to mine.

“Thank you.” Her pink flush spreads further, growing as wide as the warmth in my stomach.

Twenty minutes later, Noodle and I are standing in my buddy’s place. It’s nothing fancy, and it is treated more like an assembly line than a sit-down restaurant.

I see him behind the glass barrier between him and the guests.

He spots me. “That isn’t the Todd Hamilton?”

Noodle hits me in the stomach, like I didn’t hear him yell across the crowded restaurant.

“It is me, the world-renowned chef. Is that Spencer Kim, the brilliant chef with fusion mastery?”

I walk to the side, and he asks someone to take his place behind the counter.

He shakes my hand. “What’s up, man? I haven’t seen you since opening day.”

“Nothing much. I brought my friend for some lunch.”

I reach for Noodle, and she tears herself away from watching all the people move through the line.

“Noodle, this is Spencer Kim. Spence, this is Noodle.”

“Noodle?” he questions.

I laugh.

“It’s Amelia.” She shakes his hand.

“Bonehead gave you a nickname?” Spencer questions.

I push him on the shoulder. “Her name is Amelia Fiore. Tell me you get it.”

“I get it.” Spencer nods but doesn’t share my amusement in the nickname. “You probably got that a lot.”

“Todd was the first.” She rolls her eyes, and they laugh.

When did this turn around to me?

“Okay, introductions made. Show us some of your awesome food,” I interrupt their jokes.

“Meet me at the side door, and I’ll make you guys something special.”

I grab ahold of Noodle’s hand, but it lays limp in mine, so I drop it.

Spencer lets us in the door and leads us to the kitchen area.

He and Noodle begin discussing Italian food, and I’m fairly sure Spencer is trying to figure out how to incorporate Italian and Korean now.

I look at the shelf lined with spices, sauces, and oils I rarely use. It goes to show how different every chef is.

“Try this meat.” Spencer has a fork poised in front of Noodle’s face.

I watch her lips slowly move over the fork and slide the meat into her mouth.

She quickly covers her mouth while chewing, and her face lights up. “So good,” she says.

Spencer hands her the fork, and she snags another piece of meat. “Todd, you’ve got to try this.”

She inserts the morsel into my mouth, and I glide it off the fork. She waits to get my thoughts, and there’s something oddly intimate to this. The whole scenario makes me wish I could drag her back to my apartment and cook for her. It should be my food on the fork for her to love.

At the same time, I can’t deny his skills.

“It’s all right.”

“Fuck off. You can’t make it any better.”

“Are you challenging me?”

Spencer stares me down. I meet his eyes until the two of us begin to laugh.

“Those days are over,” I say.

When we were in culinary school, all the students would have cook-offs, like the shows on television now. Spencer and I usually ended up in the last round. That should mean something, right? He has his restaurant already, and I should have my own sometime soon.

“Is this your wife?” Noodle points to a picture on the wall of Spencer’s wife, Victoria.

“You’re having a baby? Why didn’t I know this?” I stare in disbelief at Victoria’s hands cradling her round stomach.

“You never return my phone calls.”

Spencer continues to whisk, and I hear the oil sizzling in the pan.

“I’m sorry. Life gets in the way.”

Noodle looks up at me, and the conversation from a few days ago haunts me. I need to get out more.

“You get in your life’s way,” Spencer spouts his unneeded advice.

But I can’t fault the guy. I was a groomsman at his wedding, and now, he’s about to embark on something so huge. And where am I? At the damn gym.

Noodle pats my arm, and it washes away a small amount of guilt.

“I’m not going to argue that point.” I steal a piece of meat from the pan and pop it into my mouth.

“Just can’t stay away. I’m that good.” Spencer bows.

While Spencer cooks, I look around, envious of what he has.

“It’s a great place, man.” I clap his back and hop up onto the counter.

“Thanks.”

Noodle squeezes between him and the counter, and I grab her out of harm’s way of Spencer’s hot pan. She falls in between my legs, and I grip her shoulders with my hands to keep her there.

We watch Spencer prepare a special dish for us as he and I talk about the whereabouts of people from our culinary class.

Noodle sinks into my hands a little more. The position is comfortable and unusual at the same time. It feels nice to have her here with me. My thoughts wander, wondering about what she’s thinking. Does she like my hands on her? Does she like being nestled between my legs, as though we’re a couple?

Spencer boxes up a few fusion egg rolls with the meat we both enjoyed. I wish she didn’t have to move, but in order for me to get down, Noodle has to step forward.

My hands fall to the counter, and I grab the bag from Spencer’s hands. “We owe you.”

“Maybe I’ll bring Victoria to CHOPs one night. Can you get me in?”

“I’ll pull strings. If you do, stop at the bar to see Noodle.”

She cocks her head.

“I mean Lia,” I correct.

“Spencer,” a worker from the front calls his name.

“We’ll let you get back. I don’t want to be responsible for you losing your business.” I laugh and give him a one-arm guy hug.