Page 59 of Knot for Me
“I love chicken and rice,” I say, grinning at Cory from across the dinner table. The buzz from earlier has faded and after a quick nap, I’m feeling pretty fresh.
“Three for three,” he says.
“You’re going to give him a big head.” Marco sighs and fills his plate.
“He’s a good cook. He deserves all the compliments.” I grab the serving spoon, ignoring the prickling sensation shooting down my spine.
“Hey, Lucas.” Cory flicks his eyes to me before glancing over my shoulder where Lucas is standing.
“Hey. Thanks for making dinner.” Lucas walks around the table, and I glance at him, dishing out my serving. He gives me a cold look before scooping up his plate. “I’ll eat in my office.”
I fight off a frown, trying not to overthink things. For all I know, he does this all the time, but it’s hard not to feel like I’m to blame for his sudden absence at dinners.
Marco and Cory don’t say anything to stop him, and once he’s gone, Marco cracks a joke that has the three of us in stitches. Somewhere down the hall, a door snaps shut. I stop laughing and look at the guys.
“Should I try talking to him?”
“He’ll be fine.” Cory waves his hand. “He’ll still get dessert if he eats all his food like a good boy.”
“Dessert?” I ask, giving him an inquiring smile.
“Chocolate silk, to be exact.”
“You should have a restaurant.” I shake my head. “You could make millions.”
He snorts. “Dealing with rude customers? No thanks. Serving my family? Absolutely.”
“Acts of service,” I comment more to myself than anyone.
“I prefer physical touch,” Marco cuts in with a smirk. “For the record.”
“Of course you do.” I roll my eyes, a little sad that our current situation won’t allow for me to explore that side of him.
“What about you?” Cory asks quietly.
“I straddle the line of quality time and physical touch.”
He and Marco share a look.
“What?” I ask, hating their secret conversation.
“Nothing.”
I narrow my eyes at Cory. “Are you going to lie to me too?”
“When you put it like that… No. It’s interesting. Lucas is the same way.”
“Oh.” I nod and take a bite. Having anything in common with Lucas seems dangerous at this point.
“I bet he never thought he’d be a conversation killer,” Marco whispers.
And just like that, the awkward blanket that had wrapped around us is torn away. The rest of dinner is great and like always, the two of them make me comfortable. It’s only after, when I’m busy cleaning, that Lucas returns. He scrapes the scraps off into the trash and gently sets the plate down next to me.
“Thank you for cleaning,” he says.
“It’s my job.” I shrug.
He hums and grabs his piece of pie from the fridge, snatching a fork from the drawer and leaning against the counter. I rinse his plate, letting the excess water dribble off and watching it with rapt attention to avoid talking.
