BELONGS TO ME

Chapter 16

Camila

"Okay, let's hear it."

Lauren grins, glancing over as she stirs. "What do you want to know?"

"Your secrets." I pause for dramatic effect. "'Cause there's no way you whipped up this sauce in the half hour it took me to drop my stuff off and get here."

"You're right." She nods, setting the long wooden spoon down smack dab on the counter. "I didn't," she admits as I reach past her, lift said spoon, and set it back down on a paper plate. "I made it in ten."

My head snaps his way. "I'm sorry, what?"

She smirks and begins walking backward into the living room, so just as she wants me to, I follow.

"Okay, Nigella Lawson." I set our drinks on the tabletop, and we lower into the spots we've come accustomed to eating in the last couple Mondays. "Tell me how."

"Sorry, can't do that." She shakes her head, no longer waiting for me to serve myself, but rather portions it out for me.

I reach out and scoot an extra piece of chicken onto my plate. "And why not?"

Lauren's eyes glide my way, and she smirks. "Only way to learn is to do it with me."

"That sounds a lot like coercion."

She lifts a dark brow. "Did it take coercion to get you here tonight?"

I stick my food-covered tongue out and Lauren shakes her head and laughs.

After a few bites and tuning into the scene in Superbad where McLovin first gets his fake ID, I turn to Lauren. "So, do I get to pick the menu?"

"Only if you take turns doing the cooking."

"Yeah, sure, if you want a Top Ramen night with a side of Takis."

"I happen to like ramen."

"Big fat liar."

"Nope."

"How could someone who can cook like this possibly like Top Ramen?"

"You ever dress up your noodles? Little lime, some Tapatio and cilantro?"

I gape at her, and she chuckles, adding, "How about with a boiled egg, soy sauce, and siracha?"

I blink dramatically, and she tosses her napkin at me.

"Okay, you win." I accept defeat. "You're on menu, but we need a noodle night in there somewhere. I want to learn all about this from poor to polished ramen stuff."

Lauren nods. "I want to teach you."

"Good." I jerk my chin, and she beams. "Let's start Sunday?"

When she frowns, I quickly add, "Or, I mean, whenever you have time. You know, after the season maybe."

Camila

"Okay, let's hear it."

Lauren grins, glancing over as she stirs. "What do you want to know?"

"Your secrets." I pause for dramatic effect. "'Cause there's no way you whipped up this sauce in the half hour it took me to drop my stuff off and get here."

"You're right." She nods, setting the long wooden spoon down smack dab on the counter. "I didn't," she admits as I reach past her, lift said spoon, and set it back down on a paper plate. "I made it in ten."

My head snaps his way. "I'm sorry, what?"

She smirks and begins walking backward into the living room, so just as she wants me to, I follow.

"Okay, Nigella Lawson." I set our drinks on the tabletop, and we lower into the spots we've come accustomed to eating in the last couple Mondays. "Tell me how."

"Sorry, can't do that." She shakes her head, no longer waiting for me to serve myself, but rather portions it out for me.

I reach out and scoot an extra piece of chicken onto my plate. "And why not?"

Lauren's eyes glide my way, and she smirks. "Only way to learn is to do it with me."

"That sounds a lot like coercion."

She lifts a dark brow. "Did it take coercion to get you here tonight?"

I stick my food-covered tongue out and Lauren shakes her head and laughs.

After a few bites and tuning into the scene in Superbad where McLovin first gets his fake ID, I turn to Lauren. "So, do I get to pick the menu?"

"Only if you take turns doing the cooking."

"Yeah, sure, if you want a Top Ramen night with a side of Takis."

"I happen to like ramen."

"Big fat liar."

"Nope."

"How could someone who can cook like this possibly like Top Ramen?"

"You ever dress up your noodles? Little lime, some Tapatio and cilantro?"

I gape at her, and she chuckles, adding, "How about with a boiled egg, soy sauce, and siracha?"

I blink dramatically, and she tosses her napkin at me.

"Okay, you win." I accept defeat. "You're on menu, but we need a noodle night in there somewhere. I want to learn all about this from poor to polished ramen stuff."

Lauren nods. "I want to teach you."

"Good." I jerk my chin, and she beams. "Let's start Sunday?"

When she frowns, I quickly add, "Or, I mean, whenever you have time. You know, after the season maybe."