Dylan's eyes moved to the vendor, who tossed handfuls of bright red chilies into the smoking wok. His heart clenched further in dread.
When the plates arrived, the food practically glowed with heat, vibrant red and glistening with fiery oil. Ava picked up her chopsticks, took a bite, and sighed in exaggerated contentment. "Mm, it's so good."
Dylan stared at his plate like it was a challenge issued by a fire-breathing dragon. 'You're evil,' he muttered inwardly. Maybe this was her another way to take revenge on him.
"Come on, tough guy," she teased. "Don't let a little spice defeat you."
He hesitated, then took a cautious bite. The burn hit instantly, a searing heat that traveled from his tongue to his throat. His face turned crimson, and he fumbled for his water cup, only to find it empty.
Ava nearly doubled over laughing.
Dylan swallowed. He didn't know whether he had chewed the food or not. "Not bad," he croaked, eyes watering.
