Page 68 of Every Hidden Truth

The flowing conversation stalled as awkwardness infiltrated the room, and we ate in uncomfortable silence for several minutes.

Unable to bear the painful quiet, my motormouth sped off. “This is fun. We should have awkward dinners more often.”

Dad huffed in exasperation, genuine frustration sparking in his eyes. “Silas Mackenzie.”

Ben’s head shot up, eyes large as dinner plates as his mouth gaped, and my appetite vanished.

“No!” I went limp as a ragdoll, sliding from my chair and collapsing on the floor as I moaned in horror. “Dad, why? Why!”

“Your middle name’s Mackenzie?” Ben’s face lit with glee, and I wailed like a dying walrus.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Silas. Get off the floor.” Dad’s voice pinched with aggravation. “It’s a family name, after Grace’s father, Mac. I don’t understand why you act this way. Your brother’s named after Grandad!”

Sulking, I curled into a ball and lamented the misfortune of being me. “Yeah, Bruce. William Bruce. Manly as fuck! And I got Mackenzie!”

“Silas, watch your language!”

Between my whale-like groans and Dad’s booming rebuke, it was near impossible to hear anything else. But I could detect Ben’s laughter anywhere, and I fell silent as his suppressed giggles interrupted our family squabble.

Sitting up, I glowered at my boyfriend, his hand on his mouth as his cheeks flamed with amusement. Dad stood beside the table, caught between entertainment and irritation, but he soon joined Ben, chuckling at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Soon, they were laughing whole-heartedly. I staggered to my feet, irate.

“No! We are not laughing about this.” I stamped my foot like a child, spurring Ben on as he wrapped his arms around his middle to hold himself together. “It’s not funny. It’s child abuse. You guys are the worst.”

With a snarl, I stalked to the refrigerator and snatched my ice cream cake from the freezer. Ignoring the laughing duo, I escaped to the living room and stabbed at my cake viciously with my fork.

I ate the delicious dessert alone, grumbling internally the whole time.

At long last, the obnoxious laughter faded, and hushed conversation reached my ears. Judging from the clink of dinnerware, I assumed Dad was cleaning up the dishes, and I stubbornly ignored Ben when he cautiously approached the couch.

“You’re not getting any,” I bit out waspishly, shoving another bite of ice cream into my mouth.

Circling my neck with his arms from behind, Ben rested his chin on my head. He sighed. I ignored him.

“You’re acting petty.” When I remained quiet, he nuzzled my hair with his nose. “I think Silas Mackenzie has a nice ring to it.”

I grunted wordlessly.

“Si, come on, you’re being really immature right now.”

If looks could kill, Ben would have exploded into flames under the heat of my glare as I rubbernecked to look behind me. “Fuck you.”

He captured my chin before I could refocus on my cake, and I screeched in protest. “Cut it out. You’re ruining your birthday for us.”

The twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away, and my mood soured further. He was mocking me. “Maybe I’ll break up with you, and you can date my father, like you so clearly want to.”

As he shook his head, he sighed heavily, like our conversation was taking a toll on him. “Not that I’m against dating refined, older men, but he’s not as pretty as you.”

“I hate you.”

With my chin still in his grasp, I couldn’t turn away when he tried to kiss me. His lips moved against my still ones, not giving up until I sagged in defeat and kissed him back. As a reward, he sucked my tongue into his mouth and gave me a taste of what his talented mouth was capable of.

“You suck,” I muttered the moment we parted, panting and flushed.

A wicked grin split his mouth as he winked. “Maybe later.”

I choked on my own spit as he rounded the couch to sit down beside me.

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