Page 62 of Pick Me
“No, but Dad! Gage and I need to talk about my science project,” Aiden protested.
“But your Uncle Jack needs a place to sit, son.”
Jack, who’d squeezed himself in between Drew and Em, shook his head. “I’m fine here.”
“You’re not,” Webb insisted.
“Then let Jack take Uncle Knox’s seat,” Em said like the born organizer she was. “And Marco can take Jack’s seat.”
“But Marco’s already sitting,” Webb countered, conveniently forgetting thateveryonehad already been seated before he started this foolishness, and that hadn’t seemed to stop him.
“Did you inhale too much smoke while grilling?” I demanded.
“Gage can sit next to Drew, then Webb, then Aiden, then Knox,” Em decided. “Then on this side of the table, Marco can sit by Drew, then me, then Hawk can slide down to the last seat, Jack can sit in Gage’s seat at the head of the table.” She nodded to herself. “It’s the most efficient way.”
“But—” Webb shot back his own argument, and their bickering continued.
Gage chuckled and spoke softly enough that only I could hear. “You efficient people terrify me.”
“All New Englanders enjoy efficiency,” I said easily. “Give it a couple more months and you’ll be assimilated.”
“No, I told you it’sSundayswho enjoy efficiency,” Gage corrected saucily. “And I’m not a Sunday.”
I folded my arms over my chest and raised my voice to be heard. “Webb, tell me again why we’re playing musical chairs? I feel like my perspective is good and fresh already.”
I knew precisely why, since all of his “most efficient” plans ended with me sitting next to Jack, but I wanted to hear him say it.
Webb flushed and nodded at Jack. “To make our guest feel more at home.”
“Uh-huh. And what about Goodman feeling at home?”
Webb frowned at me like I was crazy. “Gageisat home. He lives here.”
“He’s not a guest, he’s one of us,” Aiden agreed.
Em nodded, too. “Which is why he has to move seats,” she concluded sadly.
Goodman rolled his lips together, amused and pleased and annoyed all at once.
“Turns out youarea Sunday, Goodman,” I said softly as we stood up. “Don’t try to fight it.”
We all took our new assigned seats, which left Jack in Gage’s spot at the end of the table between me and Hawk.
Webb and I were going to have a serious talk—by which I meantanotherserious talk—about his matchmaking one of these days, since clearly the first talk hadn’t worked.
“Sorry about that.” Jack grimaced. “Webb just gets an idea in his head, and…”
“I know,” I said grimly. “And you don’t have to apologize for my brother. If anything, I should apologize to you.”
“Wait, what idea’s in Webb’s head?” Hawk asked as he passed Jack the platter of chicken.
“That Jack and I are going to fall madly in love because we’ve sat next to each other.” I rolled my eyes and took the platter from Jack. “Nothing says romance like communing over a plate of dead, charred poultry, right, honey bunch?”
Jack covered his laugh with a cough. “You know it, baby doll.”
“Wait, you two?” Hawk nearly fumbled a platter of steak, and his eyes ping-ponged from me to Jack again in shock and horror. “No way. That’s…”
“A figment of Webb’s imagination,” Jack finished calmly.
