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“Is that supposed to be some kind of joke about how women belong in the
kitchen?” I accuse.
He walks backward out of the room and shrugs with a playful smile on his face.
Such an ass.
BY THE TIME DINNER is done, I'm starving. We all sit around the table and dig in, barely even stopping to talk for a second. The food is mouthwatering, and I have to admit, my mom's cooking is one of the few things I miss from home. If I didn't think she would completely take advantage of it by coming here to make dinner all the time, I'd tell her that.
We're halfway through our meal when my mom drops her fork. “Zayn Bronsyn, what in God's name happened to your hand?”
It's been a few days since he decided to be sneaky and go beat the ever-living crap out of Blade, but the injuries to his hand were significant.
“Leave him alone, Anna,” my dad tells her. “Boys will be boys.”
She scoffs. “I'll do no such thing.” Focusing her attention back on Zayn, she encourages him to talk. “Well?”
His answer comes out like a nervous little kid being spoken to by a stranger. “I, uh, got in a fight...”—he looks anywhere but at my mom—“with a tree.”
Easton and I both do our best to cover our laughter, but fail anyway when we see the look on Mom's face. She opens her mouth like she wants to say something, but then closes it and shakes her head.
“Sometimes I wonder about you three.”
AFTER A LOVELY BUT unexpected and much too long visit, we finally give my parents hugs and wave goodbye on the front porch as they drive away. Once they're gone, the three of us turn around and go back inside. As soon as Easton closes the door, I punch him in the arm.
“Ow,” he whines. “What was that for?”
“You could have given me the heads-up that they were here instead of letting me walk into an ambush.”
He looks over at Zayn and back at me. “I told Z to tell you!”
Zayn holds up his hands in defense as I narrow my eyes at him. “Why didn't you tell me?”
He chuckles and takes a step back while shrugging. “This way was so much more entertaining.”
If I could be mad at him, I would be. But it's like having any negative feelings toward him lately is completely impossible for me. So, like the pathetically crazy-about-him girl I am, I can only smile.
“You're the worst.”
Going to the same school as Amelia and having her start to come around was hard. It tempted me in ways I didn't think were possible and pulled at parts of me I didn't know I had. Living with her, however, is a whole different story. She's always there, looking every bit like the goddess she is, and smiling at me in the way that makes me question if my friendship with Easton really is that important. It is, but that doesn't make it any less difficult to resist her.
In an attempt to get my mind off her, I call Knox for the first time in weeks. He answers the phone on the second ring, and I can practically hear the grin in his voice.
“I was wondering when your ass would call,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “Your level of dependence on me should worry Delaney.”
“It does,” she calls out in the background. I guess I'm on speaker.
Knox laughs. “Fuck you both. What's up, Z?”
I lay back on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. “Oh, not much. You know, just hanging out.”
There's a few seconds of silence before he snorts. “So, you're just not going to mention that Amelia lives with you now?”
Of course, he already knows. I'm surprised he didn't ask me about it sooner, but I should have known Easton would tell him.
“I'm starting to think you actually stalk me,” I deadpan. “I take it E told you?”
