Page 136 of The Lineman

I kicked him lightly with my good foot. “Shut up.”

But truth be told, I did feel something dangerously close to overwhelmed.

Not because of the lasagna itself, but because of what it meant.

Because they had done this for me, and I wasn’t used to that. I wasn’t used to people waiting for me, cooking for me, giving a shit about whether or not I was okay.

I swallowed against the sudden lump in my throat and rubbed the back of my neck. “All right, all right. Let’s eat before Matty combusts. I’d never get all the bits of glitter and chiffon out of my couch.”

Mike laughed. Mrs. H cackled. Omar grinned and kissed Matty’s cheek.

Matty cheered and clapped his fingertips together.

It was chaos—beautiful, perfect chaos.

Mrs. H barely got the lasagna cut before Matty was trying to steal an extra piece. Omar swatted at his hand with a fork, and Homer weaved between our legs, hoping something would fall.

And Mike—

Mike kept looking at me.

I felt it every time.

Little glances over the rim of his glass, fleeting brushes of his knee against mine under the table.

It was . . . distracting.

And I couldn’t get enough.

Which was probably why I didn’t notice how Mrs. H had been watching me.

“So,” she said suddenly, spearing me with a look. “How’s it feel to be back home, lad?”

I swallowed my bite and shrugged. “Better than a hospital bed.”

“Aye,” she said, nodding. “And better than a certain professor’s bed, I assume?”

I choked on my drink.

Matty wheezed. “Oh, my God.”

Mike turned a violent shade of red. “Mrs. H—”

“Oh, don’t,” she scolded, taking a sip of her wine. “We all know you’ve been shackin’ up. I see you sneaking around the neighborhood, holding hands, acting like nobody’s watching as you slip into each other’s houses.”

Mike groaned into his hands. “I hate you.”

She smiled. “No, you don’t.”

Omar, barely holding it together, cleared his throat. “So, uh. What’s the over-under on Elliot ever being able to have a normal dinner again?”

Matty hummed, pretending to think. “Mm. Zero percent.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Anyway.”

“What are you going to do now?” Omar asked.

My brow quirked. “What do you mean?”

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