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“It’s not cool, because I don’t like Lays,” he argued. “If it was Doritos, I’d be all over that shit. I can demolish a bag of those in one sitting. But Lays suck.”
“You don’t have to like the product to do commercials for them,” I pointed out.
He gave me a funny look. “Beth. How dare you. I’m a man of honor and integrity! I won’t spread my legs for PepsiCo just because they offered me eight hundred grand.”
I gasped. “Eight hundred grand? As in,dollars?For that kind of money, I wouldn’t just spread my legs. I’d hop on top and do all the work.”
Braden slid an arm around my waist and pulled me close. “Yeah you would.”
“Settle down you two,” Logan said. “Save it for after dinner.”
After dinner. Does that mean Logan intends for us all to have fun later?I was still unsure what kind of evening this was.
When Logan took the chicken out of the oven, he cut them into inch-thick slices. They reminded me of cinnamon rolls, except made of meat, with the cheese melting out of the middle. Logan pulled out a bottle of white wine, then served us at the table.
“Holy shit, dude,” Braden said. “I seriously didn’t know you had this in you.”
“Shut up.”
“With pleasure.” Braden took a big bite of chicken. “Oh myGod. Why did you wait so long to make this for us?”
“Because you’re making a big deal out of it.” Logan sat down and cut into his own meal.
For a few minutes, we were silent while we enjoyed the meal. It was absolutely delicious, one of the best dishes I’d ever had in my life.
“I like this dish,” Logan explained, “because it’s not just one thing. Chicken is always sitting on the plate, all by itself. But this has layers to it. A crunchy exterior, then chicken, then ham, and finally cheese. Each ingredient compliments the others, creating a complex dish that is better than the individual ingredients by themselves.”
“Like a complex relationship!” Braden chimed in. “Especially one that involves more than two people.” He winked at me.
“Thanks for bluntly saying it, dick,” Logan grumbled.
“I’m really glad you made this for us,” I said. “Seriously, thank you, Logan.”
The big hockey player hunched over his plate and shrugged while eating.
When the meal was done and we were clearing the table, Braden asked about leftovers. “No leftovers,” Logan replied.
“What do you mean? There are four chicken breasts left.”
“They aren’t for you.” And then, to Braden’s horror, he carried the tray of food into the laundry room where the dog bowls were. All four dogs were waiting there, as calm and quiet as photographs. Logan placed a rolled chicken breast in each bowl, and the dogs quickly began wolfing it all down.
“Your dogs eat as well as we do,” Braden said. “Talk about spoiled.”
“Thanks for your opinion, but I didn’t ask for it.”
“Hey, I’m just saying. Don’t let Pickles see this, or he’ll never forgive me for feeding him kibble twice a day!”
33
Beth
Once the table was cleared, Braden opened the back door and let all the dogs out. “Come on, let’s work off some of that energy. That’s right. You spoiled Norse gods got an extra special meal tonight. Logan treats you better than his best friends.”
“Because I like them more,” Logan called from the kitchen.
“He says that, but he doesn’t mean it,” Braden told the dogs. “I’m totally his best friend. He likes me. Everyone does. And soon I’m going to be his brother-in-law. Which means you little fuckers will be my… um… nieces and nephews?” The door closed, cutting off his conversation with the animals.
I went into the kitchen and began washing dishes. “You don’t have to do that,” Logan told me.
