Page 41 of Stolen Dreams
As light chatter fills the room, I listen and soak in everything the kids have to say about the class so far. From what I hear, they all seem pleased with the class but are happy the first week is done. That little tidbit of insight warms my chest in an incomparable way.
I can do this. I can take this next step and still feel a sense of achievement. Fulfillment. Exultation.
This new role is a step in the right direction, and I look forward to the opportunities it brings. Although the rush is different from what I get working in the main kitchen, it still thrums in my veins. I still feel as though I have purpose, am important. When I’m at the head of the room and glance around to see their attention zeroed in on me, it feels as though I’vemade it. As if I’ve unlocked an elusive dream I didn’t know I was chasing.
I load my fork with another bite of pasta and lift it to my mouth. As it has countless times this week, my gaze flits to Kaya. At this point, it feels like second nature. Habitual. When my eyes lock onto her coppery-brown gaze, a sense of weightlessness settles in my chest.
How long has she been staring?
Had I met Kaya a few years ago, I would’ve rattled off some cocky comment when I spotted her checking me out. A one-liner to make her laugh or blush. Anything to get a reaction and make her lean a little closer or playfully roll her eyes and wave me off. Anything to hold her attention and lure her in.
In that regard, I’m glad I didn’t meet her back then. Happy I didn’t have the opportunity to ruin what may possibly be something great.
From the moment I laid eyes on Kaya, she’s been at the forefront of my thoughts. The slight, natural upward curve of her full lips at the corners. How her lustered irises seem to reach for and capture the light in any setting. Shimmering. Captivating. The soft slope of her nose that leads to a septum piercing I don’t remember seeing before today. Her soft, golden-brown skin with a hint of blush on her cheekbones. The overall radiance she exudes effortlessly.
Kaya is more than beauty and appeal. When she enters the room, an inexplicable magnetism sparks to life inside me. An undeniable awareness rooted in my marrow. It’s more than temptation. Bigger than some carnal urge.
She calls out to and awakens the dormant side of my soul. Rouses new, irresistible desires.
Needing more than a silent conversation with her, I load my fork and bring it to my lips but don’t take the bite yet. “How was class for you this week, Kaya?”
A faint blush pinks her cheeks. The sight heats more than my blood, and I discreetly adjust myself beneath the table.
Kaya glances at Tucker for a split second before meeting my gaze again. “Fun. Informative.” A smile plumps her cheeks as she spears a blistered tomato and chunk of lobster. “Learned some great tips and tricks. You’re an excellent teacher. Your skill set, expertise, and patience are noteworthy, especially with this crew.” She visually sweeps the room, pausing on each child a moment.
Her praise turns my insides to hot honey.
“Thank you,” I murmur then take a deep breath and sit taller. “Are you excited to slice, dice, sauté, and bake?”
Swallowing her bite, she takes a sip of water and nods. “Yes. I’m no stranger to the kitchen, but my competence is mediocre next to yours.” Soft laughter leaves her lips. “Basic, simple meals are my specialty. The fewer ingredients, the better.” She shifts in her seat, a soft glow about her as her entire body comes to life. “And I’m learning how to make traditional foods with my family. Ancestral recipes and delicacies we lost generations ago but have rediscovered.”
The conversations around us fade into the background as I focus all my attention on her. “I’d love to hear more if you’re comfortable sharing. Before culinary school, I trekked through parts of Europe and Asia. Experienced a plethora of cultural foods unlike what we see in the States.”
Those months exploring the world changed how I looked at and thought of food. Of course, my family influenced my love for being in the kitchen. But the days and nights in Italy, France, Spain, Thailand, Japan, Vietnam, and the Philippines had the biggest impact on my culinary creativity.
It’s one thing to be handed a recipe and make a dish from a list of ingredients. It’s something wholly different to stand in a kitchen smaller than the average bedroom, sweating your ass offbecause there’s no air conditioning and cooking the food you just caught or foraged. The experience humbled and motivated me in a way nothing else ever has.
When I returned home, I immediately signed up for culinary school. I knew it’d be years before I’d create anything as extravagant or awe-inspiring as the foods I tasted in my travels, but I had the patience to wait. And until that moment arrived, I created unique dishes on my own time.
Kaya tucks an errant hair behind her ear as the blush on her cheeks blooms a darker, more addictive shade of red. And damn, how I love my effect on her.
Bold, twinkling eyes meet mine as she sits back, rests her hands in her lap, and nods. “Sometime.”
Her confident, relaxed energy is my new favorite obsession.
Setting my fork on my plate, I wipe my mouth then set my napkin down. Subdued grin on my face, I shift my attention to Tucker and his now empty plate. “Hey, bud, will you help clear the tables?”
Grumbling his acquiescence, he scoots his chair away from the table and takes his plate to the tub.
Without overthinking it, I move to Tucker’s seat next to Kaya and inch closer to her. “Thanks again for being here.” I do my damnedest to come off as casual. “I appreciate you taking the time.”
What I really want to say isyou’re the reason I’ve smiled all week,but that seems over the top.
“I should be thanking you.” She hands Tucker her plate when he returns to the table. “Had you not mentioned the class, I would’ve missed out.”
We fall silent a moment, but it’s far from uncomfortable. As the seconds tick on, as the end of class looms in the not-too-distant future, the warmth in my chest at her proximity morphs into buzzing anxiety.
Before I can stop myself, I blurt, “Can I take you to dinner sometime?”