My Undercover Life | ✓

Chapter 18

It felt like an eternity before Bradlee finally texted back—but in reality it probably took less than five minutes. The corners of Hunter’s lips curved upwards before he lowered his head in a nod, letting me know that Bradlee had said yes. Stuffing his phone back inside his pockets, he lifted his body from his bed, and ran over towards me.

        

        “Come on!” he exclaimed, grabbing my wrist. “Let’s go downstairs and watch him work his magic.”

        I let out a small laugh, letting him lead the way. “Is he really that good of a cook?”

         

       Twisting the doorknob opened, he tilted in head in thought before he answered me. “Seeing that he’s the only member of the family that really knows how to cook, yes—” He paused for a nanosecond,—“yes he is.”

         

        “What about your sister?” I inquired, confused. “She made you that sandwich earlier today.”

         

      He rolled his eyes, letting out a snort. “Please. You don’t need cooking skills to put something in a microwave.”

         

        “Ah.” I nodded in understanding, almost laughing at that. “How did your brother learn how to cook if no one in your family does?”

        

         He paused in his step, stopping before the stairs. “Our grandmother taught him before she passed away,” he said, whispering the last part under his breath. Hearing him nearing choking on his words, I felt like an ass for even bringing that up. Way to go, Lily.

        

         “I-I’m sorry,” I said quickly, “I shouldn’t h—”

         

        “Don’t worry about it,” he cut in, the smile back on his face—even though it was forced. “You didn’t know.”

        

         “Still. I’m sorry,” I apologized once more, feeling like shit. Glancing at him in the corner of my eyes, I saw the clear anguish in his. Shifting my eyes back down at my fingers, I bit my lips, chewing on them nervously. “So, um . . . what’s for dinner?”

         

        Hearing his quiet sigh, I knew he was glad I’d changed the subject. “He’s probably going to make spaghetti since you’re here.”

         

        “What do you mean since I’m here?”

         

      “It’s a non-vegetarian and a vegetarian dish,” he started to explain to me, talking with his hands. Before I had the chance to reply, he added in afterwards, “Well, unless you add in the meatballs which Bradlee won’t be touching.”

         

        I arched my brow. “Why?”