Page 132 of I Knead You Tonight

I’m tying my shoes just as Drew walks down the hall, ready to go.

“Oh, good. You’re ready. Here, take this.” She hands me the diaper bag then the baby. “I have to go grab my hat real quick.”

She disappears through the kitchen, presumably heading for the laundry room.

I look down at Riker, who is already fighting sleep.

“I know, little man. Mommy wears me out too.”

He grins.

“I heard that,” she says, coming back through the living room, checking her phone. “One minute to spare. Let’s do this.”

We buckle into the car and head toward the culinary institute Drew’s been attending.

Tonight, the students are hosting a special dinner for family and friends to celebrate the end of their first term. A three-course menu has been crafted and the entire night is treated like we’re sitting down at a high-end restaurant.

We pull into the school with just five minutes to spare.

“I’m heading in,” Drew says. “Wish me luck!”

She gives me a quick peck then presses a kiss to Riker’s head and races off for the pre-dinner meeting.

I still have another half hour until I need to be in my seat, so I take my time getting inside.

“Damn.” Wren whistles. “You clean up nice.”

I hike Riker up on my waist as we approach Drew’s cheering section, which has gathered outside the doors. “I know.”

“I was talking to my nephew,” she says, reaching for the baby.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe we had to wear a suit and tie for this shit.” Foster grabs at his collar. “I’m dying right now.”

“Quit being a baby. You look hot. I’d beat your cheeks.”

My dad groans. “Wren, please. I’d like to keep my appetite for the night.”

“Oh, please,” Beth says, “you’re just as bad as they are half the time with the things you say.”

“When can we go in?” Sully asks. “I’m starving.”

“I think we’re okay to go in now, but dinner doesn’t start for a bit.”

“I hope they have bread,” he says, pulling open the doors.

Soft music drifts through the speakers set up by a stage. They’re handing out a few awards before things get going, and I’ve got my fingers crossed Drew wins one.

We find our table and take our seats.

“Best seats in the house,” Foster says. “I hope that means we get food first.”

“Did none of you eat today or something?” Dad comments.

“I did,” my best friend says. “But I’ve been busting my ass out in the heat all day. I’m fucking ravenous.”

“I’ve had Drew’s cooking before,” Sully comments. “No way I’m ruining my appetite and filling up on junk. I wanna enjoy this.”

“Hey, you moved out on your own. You could have easily been enjoying her cooking all along.”

---