“Hey, I’m hot too,” I argue.
She ignores me. “Anyway, I’m glad you two took my advice. It’s going to be so fun. We’re going to dance all night.”
“I don’t dance.”
“You will, or I’ll bust your kneecaps,” Odette threatens me.
“I can’t have busted kneecapsanddance.”
She grabs a piece of food off the nearest tray and launches it at me.
“Hey, hey!” Summer interjects. “Stop throwing my food. We’re supposed to be eating it.”
“Yeah,Odie, grow up.”
She launches herself at me, but Noah’s quick to hold her back. I just laugh.
Summer rolls her eyes, but there’s still a smile playing on her lips.
And I realize then that this is fun—hanging out with Noah and Odette and Summer and being here with them. It’s actually, truly fun.
Is this what I’ve been missing out on all this time, being angry? Is this what I could have had? Is this what I want?
“I’m good, I’m good.” Odette smooths a hand over her hair as she settles back down on her chair, Noah watching her like a hawk, making sure he doesn’t need to interfere again. “Sorry, Summer. Present us with the menu.”
“Thank you.” She clears her throat, then points to a pile on the tray. “First up, as Ezra guessed, we have pork belly bites. They’re smoked, then glazed with your own Empty Net cider and homemade barbecue sauce to really punch up that pear and peach flavor.”
She puts a few pieces on everyone’s plates, and though I haven’t had it yet, I already know I’m going to need more.
“Next,” she says, scooping up some of the fried food I was hoping would make the final cut. “Mac and cheese balls. We already had a version of this, but this is better. It actually has flavor. And bacon.”
“You added bacon?”
She grins at me. “I added bacon.”
She continues going over everything she’s cooked up, and by the time she’s done, it’s clear she’s thought of everything. There’s something for everyone here, from the pork belly to the brussels sprouts that are out-of-this-world good to the three different kinds of sandwiches and even the salmon bites. There’s even simpler stuff, like sourdough pretzel sticks that are served with beer cheese, a charcuterie board featuring local meats, and our beloved Seattle-style hot dogs that nobody can ever seem to get enough of.
It’s exactly what we were looking for—a little bit of new, some old, and something very local.
“Enjoy,” she says when she’s done presenting everything, and I don’t think she even finishes talking before we’re all digging in.
The sounds coming out of all of us are borderline pornographic as we bite into our meal.
“This is incredible,” Odette says through a mouthful of the pulled pork that’s been slow-cooked in our green-apple Face Off cider. She chews, then swallows. “I can’t remember the last time I had something this good. Remind me again why you’re not catering our wedding?”
“Because you never asked me.”
She mumbles something about how she should have, then shoves another bite into her mouth.
I eat, and I enjoy every bit of it, but what I like more is watching Summer watch us. Her eyes are shining with happiness, and I can tell that this is fulfilling her in a way she’s missed far too much since she left Chicago.
I could do this forever.
I freeze for a moment, then pretend that thought didn’t cross my mind and keep eating. If I act like it never happened, then I don’t have to question why the idea didn’t scare the hell out of me.
I know I like Summer. That much is obvious. But it’s nothing more than that. It can’t be.
You’re enough, Ezra. For me, you’re enough.
