4.2

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note: I think I'm dying. Uni is slowly killing me. Someone send help. 

On a serious note, this dinner was one of my favourite things to write about in this book and I hope you like it! Enjoy the chapter lovelies, and be sure to leave your feedback in the comments below + vote if you enjoyed the chapter xx


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Andrew helped himself to second servings, and third servings. There was no way he could lie or even think of pulling London's leg. Her cooking was truly exceptional and even though he was certain he was full he kept going for more. Her food gave him cravings and those cravings called out to be satiated immediately. He even remembered that quick sandwich she made for him before he headed to his divorce meeting. A simple sandwich that was but absolutely delicious.

This dinner was even more so and he couldn't stop complimenting the chef.

"Oh my God, shut up," she giggled, her grin wide and pleased as she rolled her eyes. "Now you're just exaggerating."

"Think whatever you want to," he said, digging his fork into the last bit of the potato mash and a piece of his steak, sliding it generously through the gravy. "So long as I keep getting to eat this I'm okay. I could die at this moment and I would be content."

"Oh shush," she rolled her eyes, waving her hand in dismissal through his generous comments only made her feel proud. She was beaming at the end of his every word. It had been a while since she cooked for someone and though they had commented on how lovely her food was, Andrew was taking his compliments to the next level, obviously exaggerating every time he saw her grin but London could hardly complain. With her career having hit a rock, this sort of assurance — laced with amusement and fun — was exactly what she had needed and Andrew was there to deliver it to her. He knew her struggle. He wasn't about to let her suffer. She needed a night to shine.

"Sweet and savoury?" Andrew questioned in awe as they both settled on the couch, in front of the blank television, soft music playing through the apartment as they both nursed a plate full of what he assumed was meringue.

She winked playfully and he laughed, saying, "I'm so stuffed but damn, this looks inviting."

"It's pavlova topped with kiwis and strawberries. I make it a lot and I usually prefer berries instead of kiwis but I thought I'd try something different tonight. The kiwis looked so plain on top though so I had to throw in another fruit and strawberry works well with kiwi. Adds that sweetness and the cream — oh, it's a perfect combination," she rambled on and though he wasn't following her train of thought — he'd lost her at the mention of kiwis, he paid heed to her words. It was captivating, the way she talked about what she was passionate about, and even if Andrew didn't understand he still listened.

"I think I'm salivating just from that description," he said, plucking his wine glass to take another sip before placing it down on the coaster, as London asked him to do. Apparently she was very picky about moisture lines appearing on her coffee tables. According to her that's why coasters were invented.

"Well then," she pushed encouragingly, "Go on. Tell me how it tastes."

Grabbing the spoon that lay on the side of the plate, he pressed down into the dessert. It moved smoothly through the fruit and cream before hitting the meringue base. Once he had cut into the meringue and had all elements on the spoon, he grabbed a mouthful and took a moment to give her proper feedback, letting all the flavours work against his palette.

"If I was one of the judges on those food contests that are always going on the telly I'd have a way to describe how everything is working so well on my palette but since I don't know how to tell you that, I'm just going to do this."

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