Page 30 of Unofficial

“Can you bring me a plate in here?”

Leaning back, she chuckles. “If you want to eat by yourself in the living room, you can come and get it yourself.”

“Are you mad?” he asks, finally turning to look at her.

“I’m not mad. I’m just kind of confused why you asked me to come over for dinner when you planned to stay glued to the television all night and not eat with me.”

“I thought we could watch the game together,” he says and walks into the kitchen. “You like baseball, don’t you?”

Staring at him, she just shakes her head and cuts into the food on her plate. She’s not going to reply to that. Not again.

He seems to understand her frustration, so he sits down and takes a slice from the tray. “This looks good.”

“It is. It’s not as warm as it was thirty minutes ago, but you have a microwave.”

“Jess, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Giving him a forced smile, she just nods and continues eating. The conversation doesn’t go anywhere, and she watches him try and come up with something, anything, to say.

He looks at the kitchen as he chews and tilts his head. “Wait, this isn’t a frozen lasagna?”

“Excuse me?”

“I figured you brought one of those frozen ones from the store.”

“I carried in three bags of groceries. What did you think I had in them if I was making a frozen dinner? And what would I need a can opener for?”

Shrugging, he takes another bite. “I don’t know. You used a lot of dishes.”

“Excuse me, again?”

“I just thought you said you’re the type to clean as you go.”

Leaning back, she can’t finish her meal. She went from annoyed to angry. “I’ll start cleaning up.”

“You haven’t finished your dinner.”

“I lost my appetite.”

“If you’re going to clean up, do you mind if I take mine into the other room to watch the game?”

Whipping around, Jess glares at him. “Sure. Why not?”

“Thanks, babe. You’re the best.”

Her mouth drops open as he stands and walks out with his plate and fork in his hand. Even though he saw how much work went into the meal, he didn’t offer to help clean up. Just like all the other times, he doesn’t say a word.

“I wish I were a different type of woman,” she mutters to herself as she starts scrubbing the dishes. “I’d leave these for him to deal with, but I can’t. It would drive me insane.”

Instead, she spends the next half an hour cleaning up the dishes and the leftovers, frustrated he ruined one of her favorite dishes for her. And if he thinks she’s sticking around to watch him watch TV, he’s got another thing coming.

“I’m going to take off,” Jess calls as she hangs up the dish towel on the oven door.

“What? It’s so early,” Landry says and stands to walk into the kitchen.

“My job is done.”

He narrows his eyes. “What job?”

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