Mal just continued to gaze at him like he’d invented the internet or something.
“Stop trying to distract us,” Levi said. “It’s not happening. What chain of events had to occur for you to be having dinner with your late-night hook-up?”
Exactly. That was what he’d like to know. Seven hadn’t been invited to dinner so much as summoned. It clearly wasn’t a request.
Ever collapsed, sitting cross-legged beside him. Seven took the opportunity—abandoning the vat of popcorn on the floor—to plop his head into Ever’s lap. The boy giggled, then smooshed Seven’s cheeks.
When Ever relinquished his face, Seven waved his hands in the air. “It’s…complicated.”
“We’ve got time,” Ever said, his sweet smile upside down.
Seven couldn’t get mad at Ever. Nobody got mad at Ever…well, ever. “Is it really that weird? We do work together.”
Maybe they’d leave it at that.
“No, it’s still really fucking weird,” Shiloh said. “Actually, that makes it even weirder.”
Or maybe not.
“Fine,” Seven huffed, then blew out an angry breath through his nose. “His mom…” He closed his eyes. He was never living this shit down. “His mom…called my mom.”
Ever gasped.
“Like an arranged marriage?” Shiloh asked, trying to hold back his laughter.
Seven whined. “Don’t even joke about that. You think I’d marry that douchebag?”
“Tomorrow,” Nico deadpanned.
“Before he even finished popping the question,” Levi added.
“You guys suck,” Seven shot back, sulking.
“Stop teasing him,” Ever chastised.
Seven gave him a grateful look. “Thank you.”
“I’m sure it’s stressful meeting your future in-laws,” Ever cooed, making them all laugh.
All but Seven.
The sad part was, before the contract fiasco, he had managed his expectations just fine. Okay, not fine, exactly. But he knew seeing Enzo again probably wouldn’t happen again, and if it did, it would end up being another hook-up. He was fine with that. Enzo had rocked his fucking world that night. He probably would have done almost anything to have a round two.
Until the dickhead had to go and ruin it by saying the quiet part out loud. It was one thing to know someone saw you as nothing more than a convenient dick appointment. It was another entirely to have that someone ask you to put it in writing.
“Et tu, Ever?” Seven muttered.
“Sorry,” Ever chirped, not sounding sorry at all.
“Seriously, though. Why does Mama Conti want you to come to dinner…with your mom?” Nico asked.
“She’s just torturing Enzo,” Seven said. “She thinks he needs to be humbled.”
“By you?” Levi asked.
Seven narrowed his eyes at his friend from Ever’s lap. “That feels like an insult, but I don’t know why.”
Levi rolled his eyes. “I just mean it’s weird, no? Like…she got you this job so he had to look at you every day. Now, she’s inviting you to Sunday dinners with your mom. That just seems like more than teaching her slutty son a lesson.”
