Chapter 18: 18


    He watches me for a few seconds before reaching out and catches my hand across the table,


    intecing my fingers in his in a gesture that makes me instantly forget how much of an ass he’s been


    all morning.


    “I’m d you came home with me, d that we talked and had ‘us’ time.” Smiling at me honestly, no


    cool guard up and I melt back at him, all moods fluttering away in the light of that smile.


    “Me too.” I pull my hand away as I see ‘Madame of the kitchen’ing our way with tes and a dish


    towel slung over one arm. Even though I know there’s nothing in it, it makes me ufortable, her


    seeing when he’s being warmly affectionate. She smiles brightly,pletely pleased with herself no


    doubt, for her culinary masterpiece, as she slides two tes of pancakes in front of us.


    Or should I say two tes of weird looking ‘st’ cakes swimming in a white fluid of some sort that has


    coated lumpy bits of I don’t know, under its surface. I blink at it in confusion, mouth snapping shut as


    she kisses Arrick on the cheek sweetly and stands back to admire her offerings with pride. I have to


    curb the urge to screw my face up and point at it dramatically, a sense of disappointmenting over


    me in an outraged wave.


    What the actual…


    “You two eat, I’m going to clean myself up in your bathroom. I made a mess of my clothes.” She smiles


    affectionately, pointing at a tiny little dot of batter on her floaty dress and shakes her head. She leans


    down andys the towel over myp for me, as though I’m a child who clearly leaves a mess, and then


    moves off towards his room while untying the apron I only now realize she’s wearing.


    Who the hell brings and wears an apron to cook? And yet still gets food on her dress!


    “What the fuck is this?” I lift up the weird looking t and obviously anemic attempt at a pancake with


    my fork as soon as she is out of earshot, rmed to hear it fall back off with an actual thud. I lift the


    te to check it hasn’t cracked through and drop it back down inplete disapproval.


    “Shhhhh, she’ll hear you. It’s a pancake … clearly.” Arrick stifles augh, goes to dig into his t white


    offering, drowning in what I think is yogurt and maybe some kind of fruit cocktail massacre.


    He tries not to look at me.


    “Where is the real food, and syrup? Where’s the bacon?” I widen my eyes at him in sheer dismay.


    Starving yet unable to offend my mouth what whatever the hell this is. My stomach is doing the


    rhumba, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to infect my constitution with some organic, wholesome,


    probably gluten-free bull crap that looks like fried eggs minus the yolk.


    “Shhhhh. Lower your voice. She takes my diet seriously; she’s just being a good girlfriend and doing


    her best. You’re going to hurt her feelings.” Arrick frowns at me, but those dimples on disy are a


    clear sign he’s trying not tough. He obviously knows his woman’s cooking sucks.


    “I am pretty sure that pancakes, real ones anyway, have flour, and maybe color to them.” I point out


    with a serious expression; sheer disbelief on my face that she actually thinks this stuff is edible. I hate


    to think what he actually eats when she’s here. Maybe that’s why he indulges me in takeout a lot, so he


    can get a decent meal when she’s overtaking his kitchen and pretending, she’s some sort of Martha


    Stewart.


    “You would know that how? You have never cooked anything edible in your life. Do you remember how


    many times my mom tried to teach you? Do you remember the brownies you made, Sophs?” Arrick


    chews pauses and swallows without trying to look rmed or react in any way. A serious look in those


    pretty eyes and I smirk at the recollection of probably the worst brownies ever toe out of an oven,


    like ever.


    “You didn’t look like that when you ate my brownies. Did that hurt going down?” I lift my eyebrows at


    him and this time he chuckles involuntarily and then nces around in rm in case she heard him. HeConTEent bel0ngs to N?v(e)lD/rama(.)Org .


    frowns back at me with a warning look to stop, but I’m only just warming up.


    “Shut up and eat. We have a long drive, and she didn’t need toe over and cook breakfast for us.


    She’s just being a sweetheart, like always.” He scolds me gently, pushing my foot under the table to try


    and tell me off quietly.


    “I wish she hadn’t, you would have taken me for something I might actually like, or just cooked them for


    me instead. Your pancakes reign supreme, especially next to these. I want real food.” I frown and make


    a stab at spearing fruit, something I recognize as edible anyway. Possibly a blueberry, but it’s so coated


    in thick white gunk that I can’t tell.


    Please, God, I think this may be like organic in yogurt, and not even the nice vored stuff that


    doesn’t taste like bitter, year old milk. I think she may be trying to poison us.


    “Pretty sure candy and sugar-coated cereals are not real foods.” He takes another mouthful and this


    time avoids looking my way at all, seriously struggling not to smile, his dimples are making a


    permanent appearance this morning. His good mood is still floating around and try as he might to be a


    loyal boyfriend, I can totally see he agrees that these are worse than bad.


    “More real than … what are these made of? The paper bag the flour normallyes in?’ I throw my


    fork down and push the te away huffily, losing interest in spearing stuff I cannot identify.


    “Flour free, banana and oat pancakes, high protein and good for you. Something you are obviously


    allergic to.” Arrick nces over his shoulder at a noise and turns back.


    “She’sing back. Eat, or I will force-feed you when she’s not looking.” He warns, meeting my


    sarcastic ‘you so will not’ re thrown back at him. He pushes my te back at me as she saunters


    back into view. All traces of spilled mess on her dress gone and walks around in a haze of freshly


    powdered face and newly reapplied perfume spritz. Arrick raises his brows at me, that’s supposed to


    get me to do as I am told, and I sigh as I pick up my fork.


    She wanders back to the kitchen, smiling my way behind his back, and seems to be intent on making


    like a good housewife and washing the dishes she used. I cut a piece of the offending pancake and


    force myself to take a bite. I catch Arrick watching me and can’t resist the dramatic silent choking


    gesture I make when I put it in my mouth and one hand to my throat. All I can taste is dry, nd, and


    cushiony yuck.


    He kicks my foot a bit harder, which makes me yelp and spit what’s left of my half-chewed pancake out


    onto the table between us, hitting a real coughing fit while pping his hand in anger. He throws his


    napkin over it to conceal it from her.


    “Oh, my God, Sophie, are you okay?” Natasha squawks my way as I really do start taking a choking fit


    on nothing but air. Arrick hits the absolute giggles and sits his arm on the table so he can cover his face


    and stifle the urge tough my rubbing his face with a t palm. “I’ll get you a ss of water.” Natasha


    starts fumbling with the cupboards, clinking sses, and I death re him, ming him for


    this.