But Sawyer's arm shot out, barring my path.
"Cecilia," he said, suddenly serious. His gaze locked on mine, and for once, there was no trace of his usual goofiness. "I have a favor to ask."
"…Okay?"
He shifted awkwardly, like he was about to confess to a felony. "I'm actually starving. That pasta smelled incredible. Think you could make me a plate too?"
I blinked. Then laughed. "Seriously? That's what this is about?"
He nodded sheepishly. "Yeah. And, uh... maybe with extra meat?"
I held up a hand. "Say no more. Chef Cecilia's got you."
"Great!" he beamed. "I'll just, uh, wait in the living room."
He retreated so quickly I half-expected to see smoke trails behind him.
I narrowed my eyes at his back. That couldn't be the whole story...right?
Still, I returned to the kitchen and made
