In which Tyson gets a taste of home.
I hummed as I poked my tongue between my lips in concentration, carefully drizzling the cream sauce over my perfected ravioli, ensuring it was as beautiful as possible before I presented it to my course instructor. This week’s lesson was in handmade pasta, one of my favorites, so I intended on making my dish the best it could be.
“Will you stop that?”
Looking up to see whose voice had pulled my attention from my pasta, I lifted the corners of my lips into a small smile when I found Kellan Pedroza glaring at me. “Sorry, is my humming annoying you?”
“That stupid little grin you’ve had on your face all morning is annoying me,” he mumbled bitterly.
I smiled even wider. “I can’t help it, man. I get to see my girl and my kid today.”
I was pretty sure
