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Music blared through the kitchen, cutting straight through the strained atmosphere.
“Justin Bieber? Really?” He raised a brow. “Interesting choice.”
Fuck. “No, wait, that’s not mine.” I stabbed at my phone screen so hard, I sent my phone skittering across the table.
“If you say so.” A sudden grin appeared on his face, making me completely lose my train of thought. “I never would’ve taken you for a Belieber.”
“Stop, please,” I groaned, dropping my fork and burying my face in my arms. “I thought it was a different playlist.”
“’Course you did. No need to be ashamed of it. This song’s alright.”
Raising my head, I attempted a glare, which was really fucking difficult when he was there grinning at me like the Cheshire cat. “I wouldn’t be ashamedifit was my fucking playlist.”
“Way too much protesting to be convincing. You should work on that.” Shaking his head, he just kept on grinning.
I couldn’t stop my lips from tugging up at the corners. “Irritating little shit, aren’t you?”
“Little?” His jaw dropped, all mock indignation. “Fuck off. That extra inch you have on me is irrelevant.”
He seemed to realise what he’d just said because his cheeks flushed, and he suddenly seemed very interested in the contents of his bowl. “I mean, uh, your height—”
I decided to take pity on him. “I know what you meant.” Ducking my head to hide my smile, I turned back to my food. We were silent again while the music played softly in the background, but this time, it was easier.
When we’d both finished, he dropped his fork into his bowl with a clatter. “Liam?” When I raised my eyes to meet his, he looked at me almost hesitantly. “Thanks for the food.”
“Yeah, well. I guess I should take some responsibility for all this.”
Surprising me, he shook his head. “Nah. I mean, yeah, if you’d let me knock out the dent in the first place, I would’ve had my money. But I get it. It’s your car. I don’t get to decide how you fix it.”
Did he want an apology? “I’m, uh, sorry?”
“No need to sound so sure about it.”
“Youdiddrive into me,” I pointed out.
“Your fault too.”
“See.” I pointed my fork at him accusingly. “Irritating shit.”
He stood, grinning, piling my bowl on top of his. “Just for that, since the dishwasher’s full, you can do the washing up.”
I stood, following him over to the sink. “Nope. I cooked. You have to wash up. Want a beer?”
“Yeah, okay.” This time, he wasn’t so hesitant about accepting something from me. “After I’ve washed this stuff.”
The washing up didn’t take long since we only had a few things. When he was putting the saucepan back in the cupboard, I grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, then handed one to him.
“Does this mean things are okay between us?” he asked quietly as we headed back towards the lounge.
“Yeah.”
One simple word, but the resulting expression on his face was so happy, it made me feel…fuck, I didn’t know.Good. Glad we’d moved past the shit where we’d been on edge around each other.
Sprawled out on the lounge sofas, we were in the middle of a game with Preston and Kian when Noah’s phone rang. He excused himself to answer it, disappearing out of the room.
“Sorted out your differences?” Preston side-eyed me, and I took his moment of distraction to shoot his character in the chest.
“That was a low blow,” he muttered.
