Maeve stretched with a wicked grin and headed toward the kitchen, her hips swaying in a way that had me seriously questioning my ability to focus on anything other than her.
I stumbled after her, half in a daze, heart thudding in my ears.
Cooking. Right. We were cooking.
The kitchen was small but perfect, gleaming counters, good light, way too many knives for a normal human.
But then again, Maeve wasn't exactly normal. She pulled open a cabinet and pulled out a bag of noodles, waggling it at me.
"Simple," she said, mischief in her voice. "Noodles."
I narrowed my eyes. "Simple," coming from Maeve, meant ridiculously overcomplicated.
I crossed my arms. "Define 'simple.'"
Maeve shrugged like it was no big deal. "Homemade sauce. Perfectly cooked noodles. A few… fancy toppings."
Oh, it was on.
"Fine," I said, tossing my hair over my shoulder. "You're on, teacher. Let's see if you can keep up."
