Jesus, that was a close call.
Pushing off the door, I cross the room and drop my dirty clothes into the hamper and get dressed. Walking toward the kitchen, I finger braid my hair to keep it out of my face while I eat.
“Come on, Chase, just let me eat,” Nate gripes.
“No, we’re waiting for Willow,” Chase says.
“Yeah, but she’s a girl. Who knows how long it will take her to get ready,” Nate whines. “Did you hear that? That was my stomach dying of hunger.”
“Okay, okay. Enough of the dramatics. I’m here and you can eat,” I say as I walk into the kitchen.
“Sweet.” Nate reaches for a piece of chicken only for Chase to smack his hand. “What the fuck!”
“Willow gets first pick,” Chase tells him as I sit in a chair between them at the round table.
“It’s fine, let him get what he wants.” I shrug.
“No, because this one will put it all on his plate and leave none for the rest of us.” Chase glares at his brother before swinging his eyes to me. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks,” I whisper as I fill my plate.
Nate watches my every move like a hawk. Slowly, I bring a piece of potato to my mouth and chew.
“Yes?” I raise a brow.
“Did you get all that you wanted?” Nate asks, staring at the food with longing.
“All yours.” I smirk as he dives forward and loads his plate.
“Fucking savage,” Chase grumbles as he gets his own food.
“This is delicious,” I tell Chase.
I watch as his cheeks turn red. “Thanks,” he mumbles.
“Aw, are you blushing?” Nate teases.
“Shut up, you asshole.”
“Fuck, you’re cranky when you don’t get laid.”
“Nate,” Chase warns.
“All right. All right. So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Nate asks his brother.
I tune them out as I eat.
When you’ve grown up like me, food never really has a taste unless it’s processed. But having food that has genuine flavor and is something more than a honey bun or mac and cheese from the box is a new experience.
Standing, I walk my empty plate to the sink and rinse it off.
“You don’t have to do that,” Chase says as he walks toward me.
I take his plate and rinse it before placing both in the dishwasher.
“You cooked, you shouldn’t have to clean,” I say softly.
“Oh, I won’t clean. That’s why we have Nate.”
