go, or what to say.
Ollie hops out of his chair with a wide grin on his face. He rushes toward me, not stopping until I’m wrapped in his arms. Mine hang limply at my sides, completely taken aback by his greeting, I freeze. He pulls back but his hands are still on my arms as he peers down at me. “Hungry?” I nod remembering the lasagna in the car. “Good, come eat.” Not releasing me, Ollie tows me to the island, pulling out the seat he vacated and gesturing for me to sit.
What will they think about how Ollie is treating me? I glance around without really looking at anyone. “My food’s in the car.”
“I got it,” Ares replies, turning to leave without another word.
“How was Maggie’s, busy?” Milo leans past Dante, his arms folded on the table, an empty bowl pushed away from him.
“Pretty steady. What… what have you guys been up to?” I try for casual. Hoping to find out why they weren’t in school today. That’s a normal question right? Something a friend would ask?
“Dante had to work on some yearbook stuff, and Milo had football.” Ollie rolls his eyes. “I’ve been Ares’s bitch all day.” He leans his hip on the counter, his eyes on me expectantly.
Ares returns, nudging his way between Ollie and me. He sets the bag on the counter, removing the boxes inside. I scoot my stool a little closer to Dante, giving him more room. He opens each box, peering inside before finding what he’s looking for. Ares turns, boxes still in hand, and moves over near the dishwasher.
“That smells like lasagna,” Milo perks up, watching Ares move about the kitchen. My eyes track him too. He opens a cupboard and grabs a dish, then pulls open a drawer, placing a fork and knife on the edge of the plate. The room is silent as Ares moves to the fridge with a tall glass in hand. “Milk?” he calls out, spinning to face me. His brow furrows when he finds us all staring at him.
“Me?” I squeak when I realize he’s asking me if I want milk. My nose wrinkles. “Nooo. The only milk I drink is chocolate.”
“What would like?”
I lick my lips, the others are still silent. “Water is fine. Thank you,” I add at the end softly. When Ares’s back turns to us again, Ollie mouths the words what the fuck, his eyes huge.
Pushing his way between Dante and me this time, Ares presents my lasagna and bread on a fine white plate, along with a tall glass of ice water. He watches me, his eyes running over my features, stopping on my lips.
“Thank you.” My voice comes out small, no one has served me or taken the time to make sure I eat in ages. Years ago, when my mom wasn’t so withdrawn, she would make us little dinners, but I took over that duty by the time I was eight. Ares turns to move and I reach out for his arm, stopping him in place. Meeting his eyes, I tell him, “No really. Thank you.” He leans down and places a gentle kiss on my temple, then he’s gone.
“Who was that?” Milo whispers once Ares has been gone a few seconds.
Feeling defensive, maybe even protective, I mumble, “I think it was very thoughtful.” I tug the plate closer while picking up the fork and knife, slicing into the thick layers of meat, cheese, and pasta. I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips as the first bite melts in my mouth.
Ollie clears his throat. “Remember to feed her,” he says, like he’s making a list of how to care for an animal. I want to glare at him, but my food is way too good for me to be bothered at the moment by his antics.
The guys start up quiet conversations around me, not really talking about anything important, just little things about school or their schedules. My eyes grow heavy as my belly fills, the fact that it also coincides with Ollie finding a way or reason the touch me almost the entire time isn’t lost on me, but I’m choosing to ignore it. I feel a closeness to him that I haven’t yet explored, but he feels safe in way that Ares never would.
Pushing my plate away still half-full, I let my palm cradle my cheek. My eyes land on Milo as he explains something to Dante, both of his hands move as he demonstrates