Justin’s handsome face stiffened. Stunned, Justin accidentally dropped the piece of chicken into the hot oil.
The hot oil splattered onto his hand and arm, the pain jolting him back to reality. He said awkwardly, “Hey, Drew.”
“Judging by how you’re always making innuendos, you must be really good in bed, huh?”
Drew sneered, craning his neck to peek into the oil pot. “Well, I’m not sure whether Bella, the little glutton, smelled this. But I definitely followed the scent here. It smells like something’s burning.”
Justin was startled and finally realized the chicken pieces he had put in earlier were still in the pot.
He hurriedly grabbed the skimmer. However, when he retrieved the chicken pieces, they had turned dark brown.
Justin’s eyes filled with frustration. He recalled Wyatt’s harsh comments the first time he tried his cooking.
The words echoed in his ears like a haunting melody.
“Alright, I get your intention. But there’s no need to force yourself into areas you’re not good at. If you end up with blisters all over your hands, wouldn’t Bella be the one upset about it?”
As he spoke, Drew took off his coat, rolled his sleeves up, and stood next to Justin. He bumped him aside with his hip. “Move over. Don’t get in the way.”
Justin’s eyes widened in surprise. “Are you going to make it?”
“Well, if we’re counting on you, my sister would only get charred chunks of chicken.”
Justin did not get angry because Drew was right. He had overestimated his cooking skills.
Drew washed his hands. Then, he skillfully put the chicken pieces into the pot, checked his watch, carefully timed it, and then stirred the oil. After a while, he took out the golden-brown chicken pieces.
Justin stood by Drew, assisting and observing intently, absorbed in the process.
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