Traitor.
“I’m not another of your good deeds,” Grey mutters to me.
“Sorry, boss-man. Looks like you are. If you don’t pick what you want, Nani Parvati and I will surprise you.”
“We will surprise you anyway,” she agrees. “Go sit. I will get you dinner.”
“I don’t—” Grey starts, but that’s as far as he gets before someone knocks into him from behind.
Which would be fine, except it makes him stumble, and however he stumbles makes Jitter yelp, and when Jitter yelps, he shoves Grey sideways.
Right into Marley, my neighbor with the adorable little girl, Aspen.
Who’s carrying a plate loaded with butter chicken.
Which smushes all over Grey’s button-down and his coat.
I try to make a noise, but nothing will come out.
Jitter whimpers and huddles against my legs.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” Marley starts, but she barely gets it out before a piece of naan goes whizzing past her ear.
“Hey!” someone yelps.
“Who threw that?” Nani Parvati yells.
No one answers.
But someone shrieks near where Laney and Devi are sitting, and when I look back, Laney is very poorly stifling the most impish grin I’ve ever seen on her face, and Devi’s staring slack-jawed.
“Someone threw food on me!” Addison cries.
“Food fight!” someone who sounds remarkably like Lucky calls.
And then it’s game over.
Nani Parvati’s eyes go wide. She opens her mouth, dodges left as a samosa sails straight at her, and retreats to the kitchen.
I’m alternating between gaping at Laney—she started a food fight—and shoving napkins at Grey. “I’m so sorry,” I babble along with Marley, both of us ducking and dodging flying food in a way that Grey can’t.
He’s massive.
Tallest guy in the room.
Widest guy in the room.
Even when he’s trying not to be a target, he’s getting creamed with tandoori chicken and biryani and chana masala. Vindaloo and korma.
“We usually just eat it,” Marley says while we both desperately try to wipe off the increasing number of food stains all over him.
Jitter lunges for an overturned bowl of kheer.
Grey’s blocking his head with his arms. “Is this because I’m changing the café?” he asks.
“Every once in a while, we get out of control,” Marley says. “Theo’s usually involved.”
“Theo’s not here,” someone snaps.
“But his girlfriend is,” I whisper.
Marley and I make eye contact.
We both slide a look at Laney.
She’s coated in something green, and she’s laughing her ever-loving ass off.
“Cover your cast,” Devi shrieks.
“Dammit,” I whisper.
“Hey,” a booming voice calls from the doorway. “Break it the fuck up.”
The food stops flying.
Theo strides in the door, glaring at everyone. “If my girlfriend’s cast has to be reset, I will pay every single fucking one of you back with cat shit in your mailboxes. And worse.”
Marley fans herself.
She’s not the only one.
“Is that the porn star?” Grey mutters to me while he wipes cucumber sauce out of his hair.
“Naked motivational knitter,” I reply. Jitter’s still trying to eat, and I’m still trying to separate him from his dessert.
“Zen’s coming themself next time they want curry.”
I try to repress a snort of laughter, and I fail.
Miserably.
“I am so sorry,” Marley says again, but she’s only half paying attention.
The rest of her is watching Theo lift Laney out of the booth where she’s mostly escaped the food fight unscathed.
If he hasn’t figured out she did this to herself, he will soon enough.
And they’ll probably both laugh their heads off all night long about it.
Which shouldn’t be what makes my eyes hot with tears again, but it is.
I want that.
I want someone to laugh with and wreak havoc with and someone to tell all of my secrets to.
I just don’t believe in it. No matter how much I started wishing I did after Hawaii.
“Is your car coated in dog fur?” Grey asks.
I clear my throat and blink quickly while I stare at Jitter. “Of course.”
“Good. It can get covered with food too. You’re giving me a ride home.”
That sounds like a threat.
And macchiatos help me, I am here for it.
11
Grey