“What if I screw it up?”

“How? Also, just pop a titty out if you do. Instant reset.”

“What is wrong with you?” she hissed.

“Nothing. I’m actually being a great friend to you right now. I’m trying to get you to accept the many blessings this fine ass man is trying to bestow upon you. A home-cooked meal and dick? Girl! You a lucky bitch and you don’t even know it.”

“I like him,” Deja whined.

“Even better! I’d fuck a man I didn’t like if he could cook. No lie. I’m not proud about it, but it’s been a couple years since I got some good dick, and my standards are dropping embarrassingly fast. Anyway, enough about me and my neglected love life. Make sure there’s no lipstick on your teeth and get into that man’s apartment.”

“You should be a life coach,” Deja said sarcastically.

“No lie, I’ve considered that if this whole academic scam doesn’t pan out.”

“Thanks for nothing,” she muttered.

“More than welcome. Feel free to repay me in leftovers or a decent bottle of wine.”

Deja hung up on the sound of Toni cackling at her.

Alejandro had maybe bitten off more than he could chew.

“Okay, I might be burning this,” he said.

The sound of his brother’s laughter filled his ears. He would have ripped his earbuds out, but he didn’t have a free hand since he was currently trying to gauge if it was time to flip the pieces of salmon sizzling in the pan or not.

“Angel, help me,” Alejandro said.

“Fuck, I wish I had recorded that. Flip.”

“Now?” Alejandro asked, panicking.

“Yes. Duh.”

When he did so, he didn’t feel any less nervous. “Did I burn ‘em?”

“Do they look burned?”

“Kinda?”

“Send me a picture,” Angel said, clearly judging his older brother.

He wiped his hands on the dish towel over his shoulder and then took his phone from his pants pocket. He took a quick picture of the fish filets and took pictures of the couscous and salad, which he hadn’t burned, and sent them over, waiting with bated breath.

“They look alright. A bit sloppy but good. She there yet?”

“If she was here, I wouldn’t be on the phone with you.”

“So you’d just be burning this fish in front of her? Bold.”

“You said it wasn’t burned,” Alejandro panicked, and then his doorbell rang. His chest actually hurt from his heart hammering against it.

“Shit, she’s here.”

“Take the fish off,” Angel said nonchalantly.

“Why? Fuck.”

“Because it should be done by now. Take it off and let it rest. You’re gonna have to eat now, though.”

“Oh, okay. Okay,” Alejandro said, turning in a small circle, unsure what to do with himself.

“Damn, bro, you sound nervous as fuck. Send me a picture.”

“Of what? Me freaking out?”