Soufflés at Sunrise

by M. J. O'Shea

  The good thing about vanilla and coffee flavors was they colored themselves, meaning he didn’t have to worry about food coloring upsetting the delicate macaron recipe. He grabbed vanilla pods and a rich, dark bag of espresso beans from the shelves, along with the almond flour and other ingredients that had been set aside for them on the main table.

  When he got back to the station, Polly was well underway with the standard prep, having set up the baking sheets and piping bags ready to get started. She’d drawn three-dozen circles on the baking sheets so they’d have a guide for piping and they could abandon any that didn’t bake evenly.

  The next hour and a half was as fun as Chase had hoped for. Polly hummed as she worked and communicated well at each stage of the process. Chase couldn’t help but compare the challenge to the one he’d done with Kai, but that wasn’t fair, not really. Things were weird with him and Kai. Even after his dumb sort of try at bridge building the other night. “Hey.” How stupid.

  “Done,” Polly said, sliding the second baking sheet into the oven.

  “Awesome.”

  “Fillings?” she asked.

  “Oh.” Chase thought for a moment. “I guessed we’d go with the same flavors as the shells. Classic and simple, you know?”

  “Hmm.” Polly leaned a hip against the counter. “How about we put vanilla in the coffee shells….”

  “And coffee in the vanilla ones?” Chase finished for her with a laugh. “Nice.”

  “Do you have any particular recipes in mind?” Polly asked as she started to pull powdered sugar, heavy cream, and butter onto the counter.

  “Cream?” he asked. “Really?”

  Polly gave him an odd look. “Don’t you put cream in buttercream frosting?”

  “I guess I don’t have a lot of macaron experience.”

  “Do you trust me?” she demanded.

  “Sure,” Chase said with a laugh.

  “Great. Can you get that mixer going, please?”

  At times Chase felt a little like Polly’s sous chef, though he didn’t really mind. She was very confident in her cooking, which meant he didn’t have to worry about the finer details. He was constantly impressed at how well she worked and how familiar she was in a kitchen, considering how young she was.

  As they worked on the fillings, Chase let his gaze wander over to where Kai and Al were working frantically on their pink and purple macarons. It was funny, really, how the two teams had decided to go in totally opposite directions; Chase and Polly’s cookies would have subtle, natural tones, and Kai and Al’s were bright and vibrant.

  “I have no idea who’s going to win this,” Chase said as he turned away from Polly and pulled the baking sheets out of the oven. The shells had a beautiful, glossy finish, and the cracked feet told him they’d managed to create perfect macarons. He carefully slid each shell onto a cooling rack and wiped his arm across his forehead instinctively.

  “Me either,” Polly said, stepping over to look at the shells. “These look good to me, but….”

  “Yeah.”

  There was no way of knowing which way the judges would swing. Now that there were only four of them left, even the smallest thing could mean the difference between failure and success.

  Chase was relieved when they had a few minutes left to present the macarons in a bakery box, alternating the colors to make it look pretty. He gave Polly a firm hug as the buzzer sounded, and nodded to himself. They’d done well.

  In the end, the judges said it was almost too close to call, and the delicacy of Polly’s coffee macaron had secured the win for her team—just. Unsurprisingly, she won the overall prize of first to the tables, and Chase thought she deserved it.

  This challenge had been just what he needed to get into the mindset for the final test of his Burned career.

  THIS ISN’T good.

  Chase had a feeling something was about to go down, and he didn’t like it one bit. Tommy and a couple of the network suits who’d been hanging around looking suspicious the whole time they’d been baking the macarons were muttering in the corner. Of course, they always looked like some expensive herd of Mafia hit men, so that wasn’t really anything different.

  “Gentlemen,” Tommy finally said. “Perhaps we should take this into my conference room.” He glanced around again like he had about a thousand things to hide, and then ushered the suits down the hall.

  Chase wasn’t an eavesdropper, really, he wasn’t, but he knew whatever the hell they were talking about in that office had to do with them. He’d seen the guys eyeing him and Kai all morning. If it was about them being fake rivals again, he deserved to know. If someone had found out they had been a hell of a lot more than friends at one point, well, then he needed to know so he knew how to handle it. Whatever it was, he figured it was bound to be about him and Kai. He’d seen them watching both of them more than once during the filming.

  Tommy had left the door to the conference room cracked, which was convenient. Chase had been planning to listen through the vent in the bathroom, but he didn’t even have to do that. He felt like some kind of spy, albeit a huge dorky one who was likely to get caught. Everyone else had cleaned up from the challenge and was making their way to the shuttle. Chase would look pretty damn guilty of something if he were caught in the back hall. He tried to be silent.

  “Have you made your choices, gentlemen?” Tommy was asking. “Who do you want on next season’s posters?”

  Wait. What? That wasn’t about his and Kai’s relationship. That was them… fucking deciding who was going to win before a single dough had been mixed for the final. Chase clapped a hand to his mouth when an outraged squeak nearly escaped.

  “The girl’s out. So’s the big guy. Not sexy enough to sell the show to the housewives. That leaves the blond and the dark guy. I was watching them, and they both have potential. What are their names again?”

  It was a voice Chase didn’t recognize. Probably one of the suits.

  “Kailua Chin and Chase Christiansen are their names,” Tommy replied.

  “Are either of them noticeably better? I like that Kailua guy’s name, and he’d look pretty on the posters.”

  “He is a bit better. More of a range.” Chase couldn’t argue that. Kai was an amazing pastry chef.

  “Then let’s go with him. Sexy name, pretty guy, good chef. Can’t lose.”

  Chase heard a grumble of agreement.

  “Are we signed off on that choice?” Tommy asked. “If so, I can take it to Basil and the other judges, get it all locked in.”

  One of the people in the room cleared his throat. “Are they going to fight us like the judges did last season?” he asked.

  “No. That was… unfortunate. The judge had a personal stake in that contestant. I don’t think we’ll have any problems this time. Nicolette’s been hopped up on oxys most of the season, She’s too looped to give a shit. Basil’s more interested in furthering his career than any of the contestants, and Emilio won’t want to make waves.”

  Chase couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They were just picking who won? Talking about how one of the judges was so high that she barely knew them. Jesus. When did the levels of bullshit end?

  Chairs scraped on the floor, and Chase knew he had to get out of there before one of them saw him in the hallway. He walked quickly but silently on his trainers until he was out of the hallway and in the main kitchen area. It was empty except for Kai.

  “Hey. You okay?” he asked, his eyes narrowing with concern. “You look like a fucking ghost.”

  It wasn’t bad for their first words since his lame little “hey” on Friday after the challenge. Chase spoke before he had time to even think about it.

  “We need to talk. Let’s get on the shuttle, and I’ll tell you what just happened when we get back to the condo.”

  On the shuttle, Kai kept quiet, stared ahead with his earbuds in his ears and didn’t talk to anyone. He looked nervous. Chase felt bad about what he was about to do. He hadn’t really tal
ked to Kai in the past few weeks, and this was their first real conversation other than the one where Chase shot him down?

  They’re cheating to make sure you win. It’s all rigged. Chase didn’t know how he was going to say it.

  HE STILL didn’t know what to say when he and Kai were alone in their room, each on his own bed facing the other. Chase gripped the comforter and took a deep breath for courage.

  “Listen, I just overheard something, I’m really damn sure I wasn’t supposed to hear it and I’ve been trying to figure out if I should tell you or not. If it was me, I’d want to know, so yeah. I’m going to tell you.”

  Kai looked confused. Chase didn’t blame him. He’d be confused too if someone came up to him all dramatic like that. It had taken him all of a minute of self-torture to realize he wouldn’t want to be kept in the dark. So he told him. That the suits decided ahead of time who they wanted on their pretty posters and all over their website. That it was fixed every year. That Kai was their lucky choice that time.

  “Fuck!” Kai exclaimed as soon as Chase finished talking.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Fuck.”

  Kai clearly needed to pace, so Chase stayed on his bed and tucked his feet up underneath himself, giving Kai plenty of space.

  “What the fuck is going on? This is what I’ve wanted ever since I moved here, you know?” Kai said, clearly building up to a good rant. “I’ve worked my ass off to get this far, and now I’m given it—what—because they think it would make good TV? A pretty poster? Fuck that, Chase. Fuck that. I’m a chef.”

  “You’ve earned this,” Chase said quietly.

  “No shit,” Kai snapped. “You’re damn right I have. But I want to win this in a fair fight. I want to win because I beat the best, not because they like my face.”

  He collapsed onto the bed next to Chase and dropped his head to Chase’s shoulder. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

  Chase twisted enough to press a kiss to Kai’s head. He didn’t know what made him do it, but it felt right. Kai needed him, and all of a sudden that trumped anything they’d argued about. He didn’t know what the hell he’d do if he were in Kai’s position. “You’re going to go and win Burned.”

  “No,” he said softly. “I don’t think I am.”

  “No?”

  “I wouldn’t win this in a fair fight, Chase.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Chase twisted in his seat, almost worried at what Kai was going to suggest next. This was dangerous territory for both of them. “We all know who’s the best, and it’s not me.” Polly. She’d been slowly showing everyone that she knew exactly what she was doing. She had the whole time.

  “What does that mean, though? For you or for her.”

  Kai shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I want to throw the competition.”

  Chase kissed him. Hard.

  “LISTEN,” KAI said. “I’d still really like to talk to you. About everything that happened.”

  The poor guy looked like he was about to pass out, so Chase nodded, knowing one kiss was not going to be enough to fix everything they’d been through in the past few weeks. Despite all the bullshit, this was Kai, and all of the feelings Chase had developed for him hadn’t gone away.

  “Sure,” Chase said carefully.

  “Really?” Kai sounded shocked. That wasn’t surprising really. Chase had been throwing off any attempt Kai had made to talk to him for days now.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Wow. That came out of nowhere.” Kai still looked shocked. He was probably waiting for Chase to take it back.

  “Yeah, I guess I’m ready for us to move on from this deep freeze. In whatever way we need to do that.” He smiled at his knees. “I guess that’s why I kissed you.”

  “Hey,” Kai said, like an idea had just come to him. “Why don’t we go back to my place this weekend? Just to get away from here for a while.”

  Chase drew back a little. “Isn’t it a bit soon for that? I mean, there’s still a lot for us to talk about. I don’t want to rehash old arguments, but….”

  “Okay.” Kai took a deep breath, blew it out, then pushed his hair back from his face. “I’m listening. Seriously.”

  For a few moments, Chase fiddled with a loose thread on the knee of his jeans. Then he looked up, trying to gauge Kai’s mood, how he’d react. The last thing Chase wanted was more arguing, more stress and pain and angry words. That wasn’t what they were supposed to be about.

  “I know why we’re both here,” he said, then laughed a little at how philosophical he’d gotten. “It’s a competition. We both came here to win, and I’ve always respected that about you. You play for keeps, you know?”

  “Chase—” Kai started, then stopped and shook his head. “Sorry. Go on.”

  “You’re a fantastic chef, Kai. You deserve to win this thing. But it felt like you were willing to stomp all over me to get that title, despite everything that was happening between us. And then that made me wonder if our relationship—or whatever it is that we have together—is something you manufactured to keep me down and stop me from beating you.”

  “Shit,” Kai muttered, the sound harsh. “Shit. I didn’t do that, Chase. I swear—”

  “I know,” Chase said. “I know. But it felt that way.”

  Kai took a deep breath, let it out noisily. “You’re right about a lot of things,” he said. “I’m an arrogant dick half the time. I promise you, though, I never used you to try and win this competition. What I have—had—with you, it’s nothing to do with Burned. I promise.”

  “Okay,” Chase said softly.

  “Being with you, the way we were, it sort of brought out a lot of my insecurities. That connection we have? In the bedroom? I’ve never felt like that before. I’ve never let anyone see me that vulnerable. When you came out of your shell in the ice cream challenge, I felt like I’d been ripped open and anyone could see the person I become when you fuck me.”

  “Do you even hear yourself?” Chase said, his voice suddenly hot. “Do you hear how stupid that sounds?”

  “Yes!” Kai cried, throwing his hands in the air. “Yes. It sounds ridiculous. I know that.”

  “I’m not trying to make light of your insecurities here, but Kai….”

  “I’m sorry, Chase,” Kai said. He grabbed both of Chase’s hands and squeezed them gently until Chase looked up at him. “I’m so sorry. I hurt you and I didn’t mean to.”

  Chase rubbed his thumbs back and forth across Kai’s hands. “Thank you. For saying that.”

  Kai leaned in and dropped his head back to Chase’s shoulder, taking a deep breath of Chase’s warm, comforting scent.

  “Kai?” Chase asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “Who do you want to win? Me or you?”

  “We don’t even get a choice in that,” Kai said.

  “That’s not what I asked you.”

  Kai looked at Chase, then shook his head. “I don’t want me to win, and I don’t want you to win. It’s not about that. I want my food to be judged against your food, and I want whoever is best to win. Like I said to you before, we’re equals in that kitchen, even if we’re not in the bedroom.”

  Chase smiled slowly, then leaned in to brush his lips over the corner of Kai’s mouth. “Let’s go to your place for the weekend, yeah?”

  CHASE COULDN’T believe how relieved he was to be back in Kai’s apartment. It seemed like another lifetime ago that they were here together, happy, no drama. He wanted that back. A big part of him wondered why the hell he’d waited so long to try to get it. Whatever it was, that was over and he was with Kai, and things, hopefully, were back to normal. Chase didn’t know what would happen in bed, if they’d even get to that place, but he knew he’d be happy with cuddling, maybe some talking, cooking each other dinner with the food they’d bought from the market on the way. If that was all that happened, Chase figured he’d be happy with it.

  “You wanna make dinner first?”
Kai asked. He still looked really unsure of himself. Chase hadn’t meant for that to happen; he’d just been processing things at his own pace.

  “Yeah, let’s make dinner. You in charge of the fish?” he asked.

  “I was going to. You want a macadamia crust?”

  Chase smiled. “You said that’s the way your grandma makes it, right?”

  “All the time. She’s the one who taught me how when I was a kid.”

  “Then macadamia crust it is. It sounds delicious.”

  They cooked and ate and reconnected. There wasn’t a huge talk; they didn’t really require one, as far as Chase was concerned. It had dragged on too long already, and rehashing things yet again was more likely to drag up bad feelings than resolve them. Time to move on and make each other happy again.

  Chase didn’t want to wallow in the anger anymore anyway. Yeah, part of him did, wanted to hold Kai down and make him listen, but sometimes that wasn’t what he needed, and after so long, all he wanted was to touch, connect skins, feel everything. Kai came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips. He’d dropped weight since the beginning of the season—ironic since they spent their days making sweets, but he was gorgeous still, and Chase had missed him. They didn’t have many days left to make up for lost time, but Chase was planning to take advantage of every single one.

  THE WEEKEND was idyllic. Far less awkward than Chase would’ve thought after nearly three weeks of barely speaking. It was like that one hug opened the floodgates and he and Kai went right back to the way they were… after a good night in bed, that was. Chase couldn’t believe how much he’d missed it. Actually, he could. What he really couldn’t believe was how long he’d gone without Kai’s laugh, or his hugs, or the way he whimpered when Chase sank into his body. He was so relieved to have it back. It was like part of his body knew there’d been something wrong, but he didn’t even realize it until it was right again.

  Sunday came way too fast. They had to get back to the studio that night, but Chase wanted one more trip to the beach. He had felt closest to Kai there, or, well, in Kai’s bedroom, where everything could fall away like it didn’t exist. But there was something about the crashing water and the warm air, the smell of saltwater and the distance stretching ahead of them as far as either could see, that just made things seem easier. He and Kai packed up the car with their belongings to take back to the condo. They’d decided to stay at the beach as long as they could and grab some dinner on the way back in that night.