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Macklin was a good cookie and a great friend I looked up to. When some prissy guy at a culinary institute said Macklin didn’t have what it took to work with food, Mack had said fuck it and walked away from his training. He’d opened this place at the age of twenty-five, and now it was featured in magazines and DC foodie guides. He worked his butt off every day and followed royal gossip and watched tentacle porn in his spare time.
We all needed hobbies.
“I never find parking this close to the restaurant.” Greer was pleased.
He killed the engine, and I jumped out and hurried to the sidewalk. River and Lucas stood on the stoop, checking people off a list as they arrived. River looked like he hadn’t slept since before the fire, and Lucas was visibly frazzled. His hair was usually tamed. Now, he had a worry wrinkle in his forehead, and he seemed very restless.
Tate and Kingsley jogged up the steps, and a couple hugs were exchanged.
It was a wake-up call. For the past two days, all the focus had been on me and my shitty love life. I hadn’t once asked Greer how he was feeling. This was the community he and seven others had started. It was their kink baby.
I was such an ass sometimes.
We usually had the rooftop terrace reserved for our munch, until the weather didn’t allow it. Today was definitely cold, so I assumed we’d be in one of the dining rooms on the first or second floor. After shedding my jacket, I threw it into the back seat on Archie’s side, and then I went to the back to help with the boxes. No more selfish behavior on my part. I was gonna help.
“Jesus, love. Did you just step out of a magazine?” Archie eyed me appreciatively.
“Shucks.” I grinned and smoothed down my shirt.
“Archer, you and I can go help Macklin,” Sloan said. He did a brief double take at me, then cleared his throat and said, “I don’t want you to catch a cold, little one. Please put on a jacket.”
“But I’m gonna work up a sweat with the boxes, Sir,” I reasoned.
He didn’t look entirely happy. “Just hurry, okay?”
“I promise!”
It wasn’t like I wanted to linger out here. The winds were ice-cold. Besides, I was so darn hungry now. Archie had prepared a tiny breakfast for the road, just to tide us over till we got here, and now I was itching for Macklin’s magic.
Oh, that sounded dirty in my head. I totally meant his food. The fries here, oh my God, and the chicken fingers—and the garlic bread and the sandwiches! Lane was a fan too. We came here sometimes just the two of us.
We usually preordered our meals before a munch, but today, we were being served a buffet. Mack had promised comfort food and beverages on the house.
He was also one of the founding members—the youngest one, actually—so I had to be extra kind to him too. Make sure he was doing okay. Maybe send a care package to his apartment to make him smile. He was the only one in our community who knew exactly what I did for a living, so maybe I could draw him something too.
I thought a care package was a great idea. Oh! I could totally talk to my subbie friends, and we could send care packages to all the Founders together.
Greer returned from having spoken to Colt, another founding member who looked very tired, and he opened up the back while he side-eyed me.
“You ready to do some heavy lifting with me?”
“Yes, Sir.” I wondered what else was in the boxes. Sixty aftercare kits with Mclean House propaganda didn’t weigh that much, nor did they require so much space. “Are the rest of the contents secret?”
“Huh?” He grunted and picked up two boxes. “Oh. No, it’s just some supplies I picked up yesterday. Mack’s restaurant is one of our new temporary event venues. We might host our next Game here.”
Hoo, that gave me all kinds of reactions. Happiness to hear we were proceeding with our monthly competition, sadness because it wouldn’t take place at the house for a while, excitement to hear what this month’s theme would be. Or next month, I guessed. Thanksgiving was around the corner, a time of the year we never hosted many events because people were off doing vanilla stuff with their families.
“Do you think I can persuade Sloan to be my partner for that event?” I grabbed the other two boxes and eeep’d at the weight. Yikes! Okay, heavier than I’d anticipated.
Greer’s eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth, and he locked the truck.
“It’s just…” I huffed and puffed and walked toward the steps. “I missed the first two Games when I was away this summer, and then I did the Funhouse Game with Marcus, which was a total failure. Then the boot camp last month where I didn’t have a partner…” ’Cause it was a lot about pain, and Marcus didn’t like that.
