I try to lower my tone, but have to clear my throat a few times to modulate properly so it doesn’t just sound like I slammed into the other end of that spectrum with a whisper. “Sorry, I’m…ok. I’m nervous. We haven’t had anybody but you over since we moved in…not for a proper dinner. Lunch doesn’t count…and that one wasn’t thought-out in advance. It was just a quick thing that Sam helped with, so not really us…er, Paul, cooking food specifically for you. Does that make sense? I’m rambling now. Please stop me before I say something super embarrassing or just run out of air and pass out.”
Luckily, whatever it is I’m going on about is funny enough that Sarah starts giggling, Greg just smiles at her indulgently, and Teddy looks like we’ve all lost our damned minds, but I’ll take what I can get. Even right now, that’s grudging acceptance for my perceived lunacy.
“So, dinner? Paul’s a really good cook. I mean, we just did sandwiches last time you were over, so you didn’t really get a chance to taste his actual cooking, but it’s good. I promise.” Sarah is smiling at me, while Greg nods along beside her and Teddy looks confused. Shit, am I supposed to invite his pack too? I didn’t ask Paul, but they are staying with them. Is it rude not to? Shit. “Teddy, you all can come too, if you want. It’s not just them, though that’s who I was supposed to invite…but I don’t want to be rude, y’all are more than welcome for food.”
The big omega finally laughs, though it’s more of a chuckle than Sarah’s earlier snicker. “Nah, I’m good. I figure Sam already has plans. But Sarah and Greg can decide for themselves. We brought separate cars in case Sarah started feeling bad again. But I do appreciate the offer. I’ll pass the sentiment on to everybody at the house.”Everybody at thehousebeing Sam and Steve since Garret and Kelly are in the office looking over some files on the computer.
I smile gratefully at Teddy for being so much better at understanding what I needed than I was able to say. He’s a good guy. “I get off at six today, so I’ll call Paul and tell him you two will be over for dinner with me then, unless you’re hungry now, then you can eat without me, ’cause I don’t want you to be hungry. But I’d like to be there if you’re ok waiting for me.”
Why can’t I talk today?
Sarah looks like she’s about to laugh again, but thankfully Greg steps in. “No, six sounds fine. With the time zone stuff, it’s about our normal dinner time anyway, so it’s all good. Do you want us to give you a ride back again so Paul can work on cooking, or is Al coming by?” I’m in awe that they already understand my pack’s dynamic so well.
“That would be awesome! Al’s holed up in his room grading papers today. He grumbled about it a lot, but I doubt it really bothers him. He’s been going out of his mind with boredom and rearranging all the books in the library every day. So it’s good for him to get some work done. But Paul worked the early shift, so he should get home around three, and it’ll be faster for him this way since he won’t have to stop in the middle of everything to come get me. Thank you!” Even to my own ears I sound overenthusiastic, but they’re just being so nice. They didn’t have to offer me a ride home.
Teddy looks at his watch for a few seconds before turning to me. “I don’t know if you realized, but it’s three-fifteen now. You’d better go call Paul and let him know what’s going on. Then get ready for your three-thirty appointment. Ok?” It’s embarrassing that I forgot about that one. It’s a new client and while he’s not wanting personal training, I still need to show him around and see if he needs any sort of help. I like being useful, it’s the part of my job that I enjoy most. Plus all the examples Iget to do to show proper form. It’s win-win since it means I can skip my normal workout routine on days when I’m doing a lot of example stuff.
Still, he shouldn’t have had to remind me. I hope he isn’t regretting hiring me. I really like working here.
Chapter 64
“Hey Professor…Oak…See what I did there…I was trying to make a Pokémon reference…You know what, never mind. Thanks for inviting us over!” If the way Al is staring at me is any indication, he is not thrilled by my presence. Oh well, he can fuck off; they invited me, they have to put up with my bad jokes now. It’s like vampire rules or some shit.
“I’m in the kitchen! Spence, I need a hand when you can, please.” Paul’s voice comes from the other side of the house, but he doesn’t sound ‘panicked in need of help,’ just ‘regular in need of help.’ Still, Spence rushes off to join him, leaving me with the glaring mini alpha sitting on the couch in the living room. Seriously, he’s at home, he still looks stuffy as fuck. Who in their right mind wears a tweed jacket at home?
Oh wait, nailed it. Right mind, indeed. I see what I did there.
Greg smiles softly at me, and I realize I’m grinning like an idiot at my own rambling inner monologue of bad jokes and random shit. Sometimes I have to make sure my brain to mouth filter is working so I don’t say the silent stuff out loud. Most of the time I don’t mind. If somebody is offended by me, that’s their issue, not mine—but for some reason, I want these guys to like me. Even the surly one that’s staring at me right now.
“Sup, Teach? How goes the grading of the papers? Are you inspiring young minds or crushing all their hopes and dreams with just the swipe of a pen?” If the answering scoff is anything to go by, it’s the latter. If he doesn’t want to talk, I’ll just stand here and chat with myself, or stare at him until he’s uncomfortable. I’m good with either option really, the question is which one will bother him the most?
Before I have a chance to figure it out, Paul comes down the hallway from the kitchen and dining room. He’s dressed in a pair of faded jeans with a soft-looking green T-shirt, and a pinstriped apron that has a boutonniere printed on a fake pocket. It’s cute in a slightly neurotic way, like it wants to be masculine, but aprons just aren’t, no matter how hard they try.
Spencer is right behind him, still wearing his gym clothes but also armed with a pair of shark oven mitts, holding a casserole pan that’s still sizzling. I didn’t know they made oven-mitts that large, let alone novelty ones, but there they are. “Paul, do you want me to put this on the table or the counter…or the stovetop? I didn’t see any side dishes…does this have side dishes? It’s kind of a one pan meal…sort of, after you cook the beef and rice, I guess. That means it’s not one pan. But where do you want it?”
Paul spins around on his heel. I don’t know what he was out here looking for, but he seems appalled that he was followed. “Shit, Spence. You’re gonna burn yourself. Just take it back and put it on the stovetop. I’ll get out a serving platter or something to keep it from damaging the tabletop. Just…take it back beforeyou get hurt, ok big guy?” Spence nods up and down like a bobble head and wanders back the way he came, humming to himself as he goes, and Paul’s attention turns to us, and the other alpha in the room.
“Al, I know you’rebusy.” I don’t miss the emphasis to the alpha who is clearlynotbusy. “But could you please offer to take their coats, or get them a water or something. I can’t be a proper host alone, I need some damned backup. Now, have you seen the bag of groceries I brought home? I need butter for my cornbread and the damned lettuce, and I can’t find it. Dear god, did I leave it in the car? Never mind the niceties. Al, go check the cruiser and see if I left the shopping bags out there.”
The smaller man stands up and bolts for the front door, apparently relieved to have a job that doesn’t involve interacting with us. Moose’s voice comes floating out of the kitchen. “Hey Paul, do you want me to take the potatoes off the stovetop before they boil ov—” there’s a loud hiss of steam and then, “Never mind. I’m just gonna take these potatoes off. Do you want me to drain them?”
Paul cusses quietly to himself, and I’m only able to make out one of every few words before he calls back, “No, just turn down the heat, I need to check…you know what, I’ll be right there, don’t touch anything else.” He hurries out of the room while calling back to us. “Please take off your jackets and just toss them on the couch. We have water and soda right now if you want something to drink. I’ll be back in a minute.”
His voice is quieter when talking to Spence. “I need to make sure they’re soft so we don’t get lumpy potatoes…Did…Did you drain and rinse these? Why are they cold? No, they need to be hot to melt the butter. Fine, I’ll just nuke the butter till it melts…I don’t know. Hopefully nobody wants mashed potatoes…Well, of course I’m not going to serve instant potatoes to guests, what kind of heathen does that shit?” Moose’s voice is nothing morethan a murmur in reply before he sulks back out to the living room.
What the hell could be taking Al so damned long to look for a grocery bag? Spence takes our coats off the couch, looking confused for a moment before calling to the kitchen. “I found the bags; they were behind the couch…that doesn’t make any sense.”
Paul comes back, rubbing his temples. “It does if you know that I stopped to turn the vacuum on so it would run while I made dinner. I set those down while I was cleaning out the trap and apparently walked off and forgot them. Thank you for finding it. Can you go tell Al that we’re good? Dinner will be in about ten minutes.” The poor man looks like he’s going to collapse, and I promise myself that no matter how the food tastes, I’m just going to eat it and say thank you, because he put in so much effort. After all, it’s stuffed peppers, right? How can anybody mess those up?
Well…that’s not what I was expecting, to be sure. Apparently stuffed peppers means something different depending on where you are. Regardless, there is no deep-fried poblano goodness in front of me. I don’t think these things even have cheese. How the hell can you have a stuffed pepper without cheese? A proper dinner should always have cheese. What’s wrong with these alphas? Greg doesn’t seem confused, and my mind briefly wonders if this is a guy thing, like pranking theomega. But no, my beta wouldn’t do that, neither would Moose. Though I wouldn’t put it past Al…and I’m not sure about Paul.
Obviously, I’ve eaten bell peppers before, but this is a new thing. They smell good, but it’s not what I was expecting. Though I guess that’s my fault for making an assumption when someone said stuffed peppers. Oh well, at least that explains the mashed potato conversation earlier. It sounded a bit odd as a side dish to what I’m used to. At least cornbread is familiar; it’s not like that can really be different.
I pick up one of the fluffy corn muffins as Paul watches on. His trepidation is understandable—everybody wants to know if you like all the hard work they put in, and this is the most standardized thing on the table, a food I’m used to, something that my family makes. Except that when I take a bite, it’s not. They’re all slathering butter on theirs, which is fine, a matter of taste, but it’s so much denser than what I’m used to, and I nearly choke on the unfamiliar texture and savory flavor. Chewing slowly, I reach for my water to wash it down. It’s not bad, just a shock, and poor Paul looks crestfallen for a moment before he looks away, quickly asking Spence how his day at work went.
I’m fucking this all up. They invited me over and cooked for me and I’m making it weird. Al is now talking about work while Spencer practically inhales his entire plate of food, and I can’t put this off any longer. I spear a forkful of this odd amalgam of filling and take a small bite. The seasonings are surprising, not overly spicy, but as expected, it’s taken on a lot of the slightly bitter bell pepper flavor. It’s strange but good, and I raise my eyes to see Paul looking hopefully in my direction. Al has stopped talking, and Spence is grabbing another muffin to soak up the pepper juice on his plate.
There’s no way for them to know that people watching me eat makes me really uncomfortable. I’ve struggled with my weight my whole life, and at home it always feels like I’m being judgedfor how much I consume, someone gauging every calorie I take in and then blaming me for not having enough self-control. Deep down, logically, I know that’s bullshit. Most people don’t give a shit what I eat or how much, but learned behavior can be hard to break, especially when you were raised with it. Shelly and Sasha always make snide remarks, which is ironic considering how wide Shelly’s ass has gotten, but Mamá never explicitly says anything. That’s not to say she didn’t move food away from me on the table if she thought I was gaining weight.
