Giving him a smile, I take a seat, and then he lowers himself next to me. Our thighs touch, which seems like such a silly thing to focus on, considering we’ve done much more intimate things than touch thighs, but my stomach flutters anyway.
“So,” Judd says, rubbing his hands together in front of him. “What’s on the menu?”
I reach over and pluck up the lid to the serving bowl with a smile. “Rice!”
All four sets of eyes stare down at the contents. After a moment of silence, Lu says, “Why is it green?”
“Oh, that’s the peas. They sort of melted.”
Stirring it with a spoon, it slops together, stickier than honey. I start scooping it up and serving a spoonful on everyone’s plates, but when I try to give Ryatt a third heaping, he holds up a hand. “That’s good.”
With a nod, I uncover the half a dozen eggs next, but there’s a bit of a smell.
Judd wrinkles his nose. “What kind of spices did you put in that?”
“I have no idea,” I answer honestly before I spoon some onto his plate.
After I’ve served everybody, including myself, I lift my fork but notice no one else has. As soon as they see me looking around expectantly, Slade clears his throat pointedly. Everyone picks up their forks very quickly after that. Then, with Slade being the first, they each scoop up some rice and take a bite.
Smiling, I follow suit.
Regret. Instant, immediate, firm—nope, mushy—mushy regret.
“Oh goddess,” I say around a huge bite of the sticky slush, because it’s bad. Really bad.
It doesn’t really resemble rice. It’s more like overcooked porridge. The spices I put in it are at war with each other, and somehow, there are parts that are absolutely boiling hot, and others that are stone cold, with little stiff grains that seem like they weren’t boiled at all. Somehow, I manage to swallow down the bite.
Honestly, the green color was the least of our worries.
Embarrassment floods my cheeks as the others all make faces. “It’s bad,” I say.
“It’sreally—” Ryatt jolts mid-sentence, and he scowls across the table at Slade. “Good,” he finishes before looking at me. “It’s really good.”
“Really?”
Judd and Lu nod their heads in unison, but I notice they’re still chewing.
Beside me, Slade swallows. It’s a testament to how sticky the slop really is, because I can hear the struggle of his throat to get it down.
“Try the eggs?” I say helpfully.
“Mm-hmm,” he replies, and everyone watches him scoop up a giant spoonful and stuff it into his mouth, their eyes widening slightly like he’s doing some amazing feat.
I let out a sigh and set my fork down. “Okay, you can all stop pretending for my sake.”
“Thank fuck,” Judd says, just as he spits out his bite into the cloth napkin at his place setting. “My tongue is so confused right now.”
Lu smirks. “I’ve heard women give you that very same critique.”
Judd tosses his napkin at her, but she somehow bats it away with her fork before it can land on her.
I clear my throat. “I should probably confess that I don’t actually know how to cook…”
Ryatt snorts. “You think?”
“Right. Who wants wine?”
Everyone speaks up immediately, and I rush up to go grab the wine bottle from the kitchen counter when I feel my back twinge painfully.
