I reply slowly, trying to buy time, waiting for Warren to interject and handle this question.
He doesn’t.
Instead he stares at me, as if he too is waiting for the answer. His eyes drop to my lips as his gaze flickers over my face.
“You saw the state of my plumbing,” I finally answer Bethany. “So I appreciate your dad letting me stay for a while. Showering isn’t nearly as overrated as one would think.”
“Right,” she says with a little deadpan nod. “Your plumbing.”
“My bedroom’s nice, too,” I add. “I really appreciate the vintage wallpaper,” I offer, because honestly I’m not quite sure what to say about the mansion décor.
“Stop it,” Bethany gasps as she holds her hand up as if that will put an end to this information. “You guys have separate bedrooms? Oh, my God, you are so tragic.” She drops her head into her hand.
“Bethany,” Warren warns.
“What?” Her head snaps up. “I don’t want to be an only child forever, you know.”
I choke again, and Warren glares. He opens his mouth to respond to her, but before he can answer, Warren’s phone rings.
“Order me the moo shu,” he says. “And Bethany, behave.”
He leaves, and Bethany looks at me conspiratorially. My anxiety spikes in a way only a looming teenage interrogation can cause. Big no.
“Do you want to hear a secret?” I ask, preemptively.
“Oh, yes.” She nods eagerly. She even puts her elbow on the table, chin in palm in expectation.
“I’ve always had a fantasy of coming here and getting a table for six, and then ordering six entrées, one for every seat. But just for myself. Like my own private buffet. Because who can decide what to order when it comes to Chinese food? It’s impossible to narrow it down.”
Bethany grins, a slow smile covering her face as her eyes light up at my ridiculousness. “That. Is. Genius,” she says, punctuating the words.
“String beans and orange chicken and beef with broccoli and—”
“Let’s do it,” Bethany declares. “Let’s just do it.”
Could we do it? I mean, why the hell not? In terms of crazy, this is on the light end of the spectrum.
“Waiter!”
Bethany and I are nearly beside ourselves trying to stifle our giggles when Warren returns as we wait for the waiters to start delivering all the food. He’s suspicious, but we’re tight-lipped.
It starts when they need to slide another two-seat table over to our four-top to make room for everything we ordered. It’s actually pretty comical, the way they add a couple of placemats for empty seats, but Bethany and I manage to contain ourselves, just barely.
We keep it cool when the egg rolls arrive. They don’t count towards our six entrées. Nor do the pot stickers. Of course not.
But when it takes two waiters to bring six entrées to the table, we lose it. Warren doesn’t even have to ask if there’s been some kind of mistake because it’s clear by our reactions that we ordered all of this food, and that we’re delighted with ourselves.
Best DIY buffet ever.
It’s all so good and we can barely make a dent in finishing any of it, but we laugh and rate each dish as we try it. We’re already giddy discussing how good the leftovers are going to be tomorrow.
What’s even more delicious is the look on Warren’s face as he watches us.
“I don’t think I like you two together,” he says, but he’s smiling.
Bethany and I exchange a laugh.
“I think you’ve been overruled, Guv’nor.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
After dinner, I know one thing for sure.
Okay, that’s a lie. I don’t know anything for sure. Not even one thing. Except for the fact that Warren and I will not be making out tonight. I suppose I know that much.
No sexy times. Confirmed.
Because one, I’m far too full for sexy times. I know Warren has already seen me naked but that was on a good day, not after a buffet of Chinese food.
And two, because Bethany’s bedroom is across the hall. I think we’re sharing a bathroom, actually. Which, no complaints. It’s a working bathroom, unlike the one at my place.
It’s all very cosy and PG-13 here at Chez Mansion.
Which is how I’d like to keep it. Because as much as Bethany might joke about wanting a sibling, I can’t imagine she wants to overhear any shenanigans required to get one. That’s a therapy bill no one needs.
Besides, as much as I’d like to get Warren naked again, I can wait. Mostly because I have no idea if he wants to see me