Page 28 of Game on, Love

He shook his head like I’d said something funny, but Iwasn’tjoking.

“What do you think about eggs?”

“I don’t.”

“What?”

I shrugged, “I don’t think about eggs.”

He chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly.

I bit my lip, trying to stop the grin from overtaking my face. Why did I like making him laugh so much?

“You eat them?”

“Sometimes,”

“How do you like them?”

“Why? Are you offering to make them?”

“Well.. yeah?”

“You cook?” We had been going back and forth so rapidly, so when the question laced with complete disbelief left me, I couldn’t help it.

But it didn’t deter him; he just flashed me a grin. “Don’t sound so surprised, love. Ihavelayers,”

“Would you say you’re an onion or a cake?”

He paused, giving me a look to continue.

“You know… an onion has many layers but is empty inside; cake, on the other hand, has layers but has substance to it.”

Oliver rubbed his palm over his lips, like he was trying to stop himself from laughing. “Wait, hold up. Are those my only options? Onion or cake?”

I shrugged, trying to appear serious myself. “It’s a pretty straightforward question. Layers but empty, or layers and sweet. You picking one or what?”

He scratched his chin, mulling over his choices. “Okay, I’m gonna say… neither. I’m like a lasagne.”

I squinted. “A lasagne?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged as if his answer made the most sense. “I’ve got layers, I’m solid, and let’s be honest—everyone loves a good lasagne.”

I stared at him, then burst out laughing. “Wow, that’s… impressive. You really just compared yourself to comfort food.”

“Comfort and irresistible,” he winked, and something in me melted. “Unlike cake, I won’t give you a sugar rush and a crash.”

I shook my head, still laughing.

“So, did I pass?” He grinned.

“It wasn’t a test,” I replied, but he didn’t seem to be convinced.

Okay, maybe itwasa test, and hehadpassed, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

I watched him as he pulled out a chopping board in front of him, and something in my belly fluttered. The sight of him cooking with sleeves pulled back and movements that looked practised; it was a little disarming. I wasn’t used to guys being… like this. Not with me. And definitely not in the space I lived in.

“You’re awfully cheerful for this hour. Thought you didn’t like mornings,” I said, hoping to cover the awkward twist in my stomach.