Enemies with Benefits 2

Chapter 14: Deep desire

For dinner tonight, Steven decided to expand his horizons. He went to the kitchen and retrieved his grandmother's recipe book. A leather bound book with the letters pressed into the cover that spelled 'recipe book'. It was simple in nature and perhaps that is what Steven so enjoyed about it. Carefully, he undid the leather strap that kept the book closed. The very first page had his Grandmother's name written in her cursive style: 'Virginia Dickinson.' Such a beautiful name. Steven always seemed like such a plain name next to Virginia. He liked to think that she would like the name Ezra. The pages were yellowed with age and the ink on the earliest pages were slightly faded. All of her recipes were precise and wonderfully detailed. For one hundred and thirteen pages, she wrote recipe after recipe that Steven had remade time and time again.

On page one hundred and fourteen, the book was passed to him. She'd given it to him on his wedding day, "a family heirloom" she'd said. He missed her terribly, but at least he had this. Soon, he would give it to Ezra now that his son's wedding loomed on the horizon.

Steven had only wrote a few recipes in his section in the book. He preferred to make his Grandmother's recipes. She had been more creative than him, she'd travelled the world in her youth and wrote down everything she'd learnt. Steven wasn't nearly as interesting as she was.

Maybe... he could become a little bit like her.

He opened his laptop and scoured the internet for a moussaka recipe. He tried multiple, each time somehow getting worse and worse. The repetitiveness might've bothered him if he had anything else to do of an evening. None tasted quite like he was hoping they would. He couldn't find a recipe that he saw fit to add to the collection. Eventually, he nibbled on the salad he'd made to go with the moussaka as he stared at his multiple smouldering defeats.

How was it already 11 at night? He hadn't realised his many attempts had taken so long. It was a break from his usual routine to try something new. What did he do now? Should he shower? But, his feet were sore from standing for so long. A bath then? He never normally took baths. It was more of a Sunday treat and today was a Thursday. It would be wild to have a bath today. He poured himself a glass of wine. Well, maybe he was feeling wild today.

He hadn't even taken one sip of his wine before his phone began to ring. He placed it to his ear and delivered his rehearsed line: "Hello. Steven Dickinson speaking."

"And I'm glad to be listening." That sultry voice rolled over the phone.

"Stavros? Hi! Hello! Hi! I, um, I didn't expect to hear from you today. I thought you were having dinner with your co-worker tonight?"

"I did. It was lovely seeing him and his fiancé, but they started talking about romance, so..."

"So, you decided to call me?" He said in a hushed voice, not quite believing what he'd said. It didn't seem right. He waited with baited breath for Stavros to laughter at him and tell him: 'No, no of course not. Why would it be you?'

The mockery never came. Stavros did laugh, but it was one of those light laughs that pulled at Steven's heart and made him smile. "It's kind of embarrassing saying it out loud, but yeah, I did think of you. What have you been doing this evening?"

Steven leaned against the countertop, he stared at his sludgy attempts at cooking. "I've been trying to make moussaka."

"Oh, how is it going?"

"Not very good. I keep coming close, but nothing tastes quite right."

"I can teach you. My mom taught me how to make me moussaka, I can teach you. Are you still hungry?"

"Well, I had a salad."

"Salad isn't food! What's your address? I'll come round."

Steven stood from the counter. His body tensed and he held his arms out as if he was about to brace himself for something. He looked around his house and for a moment forgot his own address. He stumbled through most of it before tripping over the house number: "... it's house number four. No, three! Sorry, I don't know why I said four. I've never said four. I don't live on four. Don't got to four."