“Colby,” Jason said, and Colby stopped talking. “You literally learned how to make Italian doughnuts…two days ago…and asked someone if you could borrow the hotel kitchen…and stuck your hands into boiling oil…for me?”
“I did borrow kitchen implements. Not bare hands. If you don’t want them it’s fine, I know I didn’t ask, I only thought you might like—”
Jason put a whole doughnut into his mouth. One of the cinnamon ones.
“Oh,” Colby said. “Well, then…”
He did not have a plan for that sentence, but it didn’t matter; Jason swallowed, stared at him, and announced, completely serious, “At least as good as Nonna’s.”
“That can’t possibly—”
“She’d kill me if I said better. I don’t dare compare. And you’re like a kitchen god.” Jason was eating while talking. “Or a wizard. A f*****g genius wiza
