XIII

A shrill, overly girly scream jolted Kelly awake.

He groaned, instantly irritated.

The culprit stood in the doorway — none other than Laura, Lauren's identical twin. The instant he saw her, the haze of sleep cleared and the memory of last night clicked into place.

He had spent the night at Lauren's.

His jaw tightened slightly, and he opened his mouth to snap, but Lauren's voice cut in first, thick with sleep.

"What the fuck, Laura?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. The bed dipped slightly beneath her. "Why are you screaming like that?"

"I thought the rumors were fake… until I saw you guys!" Laura squealed, her voice grating against Kelly's ears like nails on glass.

"Laura, speak lower, please," Kelly muttered, his voice rough and low from sleep.

Lauren turned to him, eyes wide, lips parting. "Your morning voice is very sexy."

Kelly smirked, his gaze trailing down her body to where her nipples pressed boldly against the soft fabric of her barely-there nightie.

Horny bitch.

Laura let out another high-pitched squeal, shielding her eyes with mock dramatics. "Oh my God, quit flirting and put some clothes on, Kelly!" she snapped, storming out and slamming the door behind her.

The moment the door shut, laughter bubbled out from both of them.

"Well, that's one hell of an alarm clock," Kelly said, pushing the covers aside. He stood, clad in nothing but his black Calvin Klein briefs, the morning light spilling over his torso.

Lauren's eyes shamelessly roamed over him. "You're really hot, Chef K. If only I could wake up to this every morning."

Kelly chuckled and bent to pick up his jeans from the floor.

"You do know this was a one-time thing, right?" he said casually, sliding into the denim. "It's not happening again."

Lauren pouted. "Ugh, you're such a player."

He smirked as he buckled his belt, back still to her. "Everyone in the industry knows that, Lauren. It's not news."

She watched the way his muscles flexed with each movement, her lips twitching in both frustration and desire. "Why do you have to be so hot, and sexy, and so good in bed too?"

Kelly turned, buttoning up his shirt slowly. "I'm just lucky."

"Ugh," she groaned again, standing up and stretching. "There's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet. Come downstairs when you're done."

He gave her a lazy salute, then walked into the bathroom.

The space screamed femininity — blush pink towels, glittery hand soap, and scented candles on every surface. He shook his head with a slight smile, opened the cabinet, and found the spare toothbrush. After applying the paste, he began brushing, scrubbing away the remnants of last night's sins.

When he finished, he rinsed his mouth and looked up.

Honey-colored eyes stared back at him from the mirror.

His hair was getting overgrown, the waves messier than usual. The stubble on his jaw had grown just enough to blur the sharp lines of his face — he needed a trim. And there it was.

A hickey. Right on his neck.

He sighed.

He hated complications.

And this?

This was starting to feel like one.

He sighed and stepped out of the bathroom, dragging a hand over his face like he could wipe off the night. He slipped on his shoes, pocketed his phone and car key, and headed downstairs.

Voices drifted in from the kitchen — low, fast, tense.

He followed them, unsure what he'd find, until his gaze landed on a very familiar face.

"Eric?" he called out, caught off guard.

Eric's eyes darted to him, then widened at the mark on Kelly's neck. His mouth twisted.

"You gave him a hickey, Lauren?" he practically shouted, like he hadn't known where the night was heading. His tone cut, sharp with accusation.

Lauren barely blinked. She lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug, her gaze unapologetic. "He gave me more than what I gave him."

Eric scoffed. "Oh yeah? In places no one would see unless you wear some skimpy shit. But you — you gave it on his neck!" His voice rose, laced with disbelief. "What are you, a vampire or some shit?"

"Hey. Hey, Eric," Kelly interjected, his voice low, calm, but firm. "Chill."

Laura, perched on the edge of the counter, sighed and tilted the iPad in his direction. "You guys are trending," she muttered.

Kelly's stomach dropped a little.

She swiped through tabs and handed it to him.

Chef K and Lauren Hills caught making out in Club Vicious

IloveChefKsomuch: oh no he's mine :(

Tracy: damn, chef K don't play!

damnJuliet: God, this is so hot

Hilda_glinda: Chef K's hand placement!

Peyton_jc: are they together?

kütie4lyf: chef K, Lauren isn't good for you

Janelle235_: I knew Lauren was a hoe. Bitch literally shamelessly flirted with Chef K when he was on that show

The comments kept rolling in — fast, rabid, cruel. His fanbase, the Ƙüties, had turned vicious. And every single word was aimed at Lauren.

His jaw tightened. "Damn. Sorry for what they're saying about you, Lauren." He passed the iPad back to Laura, guilt thick in his chest.

Lauren gave a small smile — the kind that didn't touch her eyes. "It's all good. My followers literally jumped from 1.5 to 2.5 million overnight. All the Ƙüties followed me to see what you saw in me." She paused. "And now they're flooding my comments with hate."

The way she said it — half numb, half amused — pulled a deeper frown from him.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Kelly said, voice hoarse. "I'll tell them to stop." He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over the screen, ready to go live.

Laura caught his wrist. "You have a hickey."

Kelly blinked at her.

"Küties are already pissed. Do you really think they'll listen to you right now?"

She wasn't wrong.

"You have a concealer, right?" he asked. "Let's cover this up real quick."

Without a word, Laura disappeared upstairs.

When she returned, she handed him the small tube. Kelly raised a brow.

"Isn't this gonna be too light on me? I'm a Black man, remember?"

Laura arched a brow right back. "You're light brown-skinned. If it doesn't work, you'll wear a scarf or something."

"Fine." He exhaled and sat down on one of the breakfast stools, letting her lean in and dab the product across his skin.

Her fingers were gentle, clinical, like she was used to cleaning up messes.

He stared at the counter, still tasting the weight of last night. Still hearing the things he shouldn't have said. Still feeling the way Lauren had looked at him in the dark.

He sighed inwardly.

Fame could be beautiful. But fans…

Fans could be toxic as hell.

***

"Hey y'all! What's good?" Kelly greeted on his live with a faint smile, dimples cutting into his cheeks. His honey-colored eyes looked tired, rimmed faintly red.

Worn out.

Emily frowned as she watched from her office.

Guess he had a really wild night.

He was in a car, draped in a black hoodie with the hood pulled up. Casual. Shielded. Still heartbreakingly handsome.

"Right," he said, shifting the phone slightly. "This live is addressing the Küties."

The number of viewers was wild — thousands tuning in, and it wasn't even noon yet. 11:30 AM, and he was already going viral. Again.

"I know a lot of y'all are mad about the video of me and Lauren Hills making out that's circulating."

His voice was low. Serious. Deep enough to stir something in Emily's chest — something she didn't want to name.

Yeah, I saw it too.

She hadn't wanted to watch it, but it had been everywhere. The intimacy, the way he touched Lauren, the way she responded — it all left a bitter aftertaste she couldn't explain.

"I just want to say that no, Lauren and I aren't dating," he continued, gaze fixed on the screen, like he was reading comments flying by. "We were just… in the moment. So y'all coming at her, insulting her, spamming her comments — that's not it. Y'all need to stop. Please delete those comments."

Emily's brows drew together slightly.

Does he… like her?

Why was he defending her so fiercely?

"You're a Kütie. You're not toxic," he said, voice sharpening. "So don't act like it. Lauren is a good person. Whatever scandal you think you know about her past — it doesn't define her. And most of that shit isn't even true—"

His voice rose. Just a notch. But enough to show he wasn't just defending her — he was angry.

Then, just as quickly, his tone softened. "Dear Küties… please delete those shitty comments. And Laura, Lauren — I'm sorry this had to happen."

He leaned in slightly. "Peace and blessings, y'all. Love, Chef K."

He ended it with a wink.

Emily sighed, heart clenching against her will.

That wink…

It shouldn't have done anything.

It shouldn't have mattered.

But it did.

Kelly Woods was a walking contradiction — reckless, unapologetic, magnetic. And somehow, still able to make her feel things she'd buried nine years ago.

"I didn't know you were a Chef K fan."

A voice — deep, calm — broke through her thoughts, making her jump slightly.

She turned, startled.

Liam stood at the door, leaning casually against the frame, his arms crossed. She'd left the door open again.

"Sorry I startled you," he said as he stepped into the office.

He looked different. More polished. His hair slicked back neatly with gel, glasses perched on his nose. Dressed in fitted black pants, a pale grey button-down, and a white sweater vest.

Like a handsome nerd from some vintage catalog.

"Earth to Professor Decker," he teased, flashing a grin.

She blinked out of it and laughed softly. "Sorry." She motioned for him to sit. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I know." He gave a small shrug. "I came to ask if you'd like to join us for lunch."

"Us?" Her brow arched.

"Yeah. Me, Professor Roland, Gallagher, and Humphrey."

She smiled, a little touched. "That's thoughtful of you. I don't really… talk to our colleagues, so thank you."

"No problem," he said, already rising. "Can we head out now?"

"Yeah, sure. Let me just grab my purse."

Emily picked up her phone, purse, and keys. They walked together out of her office and into the sunlight.

Outside the building, three professors stood in a small cluster — a man and two women — mid-conversation. They paused abruptly when they saw her approaching with Liam.

Emily tried not to shrink under their curious eyes.

She didn't know who was who.

She'd never really tried to.

Now she wished she had.

"I didn't think she'd agree to join us," the redhead said, her tone sharp with disbelief.

Emily noted the lack of a smile, the way the woman's eyes flicked over her like she was some unexpected variable in a neat little equation.

Liam ignored the jab and greeted them easily. "Hey guys."

"Hi, everyone," Emily added politely, folding her hands in front of her.

A tall, charming man with strong cheekbones and a warm smile stepped forward first. "Hello, Professor Decker. I'm Jerry Roland — Professor of Robotics. You might not know me since we're not in the same faculty. It's really nice to meet you."

Emily offered him a small, grateful smile. "It's nice to meet you too."

A stunning woman beside him — dark-skinned, tall, with neat, shoulder-length braids — leaned forward with a friendly grin. "And I'm Rochelle Gallagher. I teach Chemistry."

Emily immediately liked her. There was a sincerity in Rochelle's eyes that made her feel slightly more at ease.

"Nice to meet you, too," Emily said warmly.

Then all eyes shifted to the redhead.

She didn't even pretend to be pleasant. "What?" she snapped with a visible eye-roll. "I'm Eliza Humphrey. I teach American History."

Emily held her smile, choosing grace over reaction. "Nice to meet you all."

"Can we go now?" Eliza asked, clearly bored.

Rochelle turned to Emily, her tone softening. "Do you have a ride, Emily?"

Emily shook her head.

"You can come with me," Rochelle offered with a kind smile. "We'll meet you guys at Anita's."

Emily's face stilled.

"…Anita's?" she echoed, brows lifting slightly.

Rochelle nodded like it was no big deal. "Yeah, Anita's."

"As in… Chef K's restaurant?" Emily asked again, slower this time.

"Of course." Rochelle laughed lightly, not catching the shift in Emily's tone.

Fuck.

Her fingers clenched slightly around her purse strap.

She didn't know why, but something in her stomach coiled.

She didn't want to be there.

Not in his space. Not right now.

She could already see it — the polished marble, the curated menu, the scent of fire-roasted garlic and herbs lingering in the air.

And worse…

What if he was there?

She swallowed hard, hiding the war happening inside her chest.

"Sounds… lovely," she said, forcing a smile as she got into Rochelle's car.

But her pulse was already racing.