I stared at him. “Handled it?”
“Yes. It’s on charge in the living room.”
I looked down at my dog. “But Chewy—how did he?—”
“I handled that too.” He finally turned to face me fully. “Relax. Eat something.”
I stood there for a second, trying to process that, still staring at my Chewy. He looked fine, happy even. And Marlon was calm, so my dad wasn’t on my ass about my whereabouts so I guess it’s all good.
I exhaled and walked over to the counter, setting Chewy down carefully.
“You just be doing stuff,” I muttered.
“Somebody has to,” he replied, going back to the stove. I pulled out a stool and sat, watching him for a second.
“You spoke to my dad?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He knows you’re alive.” I watched him plate the food, then slide a dish in front of me. “Eat.”
I looked down at it. It looked… good at least.
I picked up the fork and took a bite, then paused.
“…okay,” I said, then two fingers touching. “This is actually really good.”
He didn’t react. But I caught the slight shift in his shoulders.
“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m a grown man and I gotta eat,” he said.
“I’m not surprised,” I replied. “I just didn’t expect you to be good at this.”
“At what?”
“Taking care of me.”
That made him look at me. “I’m always taking care of you, Rabbit. It seems to be my only priority since we stepped on that plane.”
I held his gaze with a smile. “You like it.”
He looked away. “Eat your food.”
I did. For a minute, it was quiet.
“You good, though? Like, you feel better?” he asked, pouring me something to drink.
I nodded, taking it. “Yeah. The shower helped a lot.”
“Good.” He leaned back against the counter, arms crossing. “We gotta work on that stamina, Rabbit. Can’t have you blacking out on me again.”
I stared at him.Again? We get to do this again?
“You want another night with me?” I teased.
“Actually. I thought about what you said. About us,” he clarified.
