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Ben moved the bag out of his reach and handed it to me. “Good to know.”

Dinner was loud.

Dinner was always loud at the Bishop house.

Fourteen people had become fifteen with Megan, which meant elbows knocking, people talking over one another, someone always asking someone else to pass something. Ben took the chair beside Dad.

Megan sat beside Declan.

I sat between Sadie and Clayton.

That should have helped.

It didn't.

Clayton put a steak on my plate.

“I can serve myself.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“You take forever picking one.”

“I have standards.”

“You stare at all of them like you're adopting a puppy.”

“I need the right steak.”

He grinned and added a potato to my plate.

I nudged his knee under the table. He nudged mine back. Easy. Everything with Clayton was easy.

Across the table, Megan leaned close to Declan and whispered something.

His mouth twitched.

I looked at my plate. Sadie's foot touched mine. Not accidentally.

I glanced at her. She was eating like nothing had happened. I loved her.

“She giving you much trouble?” Dad asked Ben, nodding toward me.

“Only when she has enough breath to talk.” Ben took a drink. “I tell her to keep moving. She argues instead. I’m considering steeper hills.”

“That’s a confession,” I told Dad and Riot. “You both heard it.”

Dad laughed. So did I.

He’d told me once that I seemed lighter around Ben. I thought it was because Ben could tell me I was being difficult without looking worried about it. He expected me to run hard and argue less. I generally managed one of those things.

Riot pointed his fork at Ben. “Roadrunner.”

Ben looked at him. “Coach works fine.”

Dad shook his head. “Coach is your job.”