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“Addy isn’t company,” Cruz corrects him as Presley serves food onto his plate. “Addy is always welcome here.”
“I never said she wasn’t welcome here, brother.”
“Then what’s your problem?” Cruz glares at him.
Haden lets out a huff. “Seriously, let’s enjoy one dinner without the two of you arguing.”
Family drama isn’t uncommon for me to sit through. I grew up with three sisters, all of them just as opinionated as each other. Often, Mom would also get caught in the arguments, and given that arguing is what she does for a living, she always won in the end.
Poor Dad, he usually sat there with a less-than-pleased expression while his daughters argued over hair curlers again.
I chew my food slowly, listening to Presley talk about another one of the authors they’ve published. Then, somewhere during a story about the author’s sequel, Cruz leans over and steals a potato from my plate.
My face tilts, glancing at him with annoyance. “You know I wanted that?”
“Can’t always get what you want.”
I place my fork down. “Oh really? That’s rich coming from the guy who almost cried because you didn’t get the room with the view.”
Cruz purses his lips. “There was a spider in the other room.”
“Uh-huh,” I mouth with a hidden smile. “According to you, there were several spiders, a whole colony, in fact. Now, you’re saying there’s one? I mean, which one is it, huh? Because only one spider would mean you’re a—”
“Don’t say I’m a pussy.”
At the end of the table, Haden wipes his mouth with a napkin, trying to disguise his smirk.
“I’d never use such a word.”
Presley joins my laughter, but then, I glance across the table and into the deep stare of Masen.
His eyes are fixated on me—my face to be exact. I’m suddenly conscious there’s food near my mouth. Quickly, I lick around my lips but come up with nothing. At the same time, his gaze drifts toward my mouth, and then my imagination begins to conjure up these wild thoughts. I could’ve sworn he bit down on his lip, but almost instantly, he lowers his head and taps on his phone’s screen.
For the remainder of dinner, I avoid Masen as much as I can. Sure, he’s nothing like I remember him. Instead of his usual incessant bullying, he’s awfully quiet. But, perhaps, it’s foolish of me to think he’s the same person as when we were kids. People change, teenagers mature into responsible adults.
“I’m going to grab dessert,” Presley announces after we all thank her for the amazing meal.
“Would you like some help?”
“Oh no, I need you here as referee.”
The moment she leaves, Haden’s phone rings, to which he lets out a groan.
“Your father will be the death of me.”
A small laugh escapes me. “What has he done now?”
“You know Lex, Mr. Perfectionist,” he notes with dark amusement. “Excuse me while I take this call.”
Haden walks out of the room toward the kitchen, leaving just the three of us. I brace myself for the argument I’m bound to get caught in if our past is anything to go by.
“So, you still the arrogant office boy Dad likes to push around?”
And there it is…
I ignore the snarky words from Cruz, grabbing the bottle of wine and pouring myself a much-needed drink.
“Depends. Are you still the pussy jock Mom likes to baby?”
