And then it’s game over.
Nani Parvati’s eyes go wide. She opens her mouth, dodges left as a samosa sails straight at her, and retreats to the kitchen.
I’m alternating between gaping at Laney—she started a food fight—and shoving napkins at Grey. “I’m so sorry,” I babble along with Marley, both of us ducking and dodging flying food in a way that Grey can’t.
He’s massive.
Tallest guy in the room.
Widest guy in the room.
Even when he’s trying not to be a target, he’s getting creamed with tandoori chicken and biryani and chana masala. Vindaloo and korma.
“We usually just eat it,” Marley says while we both desperately try to wipe off the increasing number of food stains all over him.
Jitter lunges for an overturned bowl of kheer.
Grey’s blocking his head with his arms. “Is this because I’m changing the café?” he asks.
“Every once in a while, we get out of control,” Marley says. “Theo’s usually involved.”
“Theo’s not here,” someone snaps.
“But his girlfriend is,” I whisper.
Marley and I make eye contact.
We both slide a look at Laney.
She’s coated in something green, and she’s laughing her ever-loving ass off.
“Cover your cast,” Devi shrieks.
“Dammit,” I whisper.
“Hey,” a booming voice calls from the doorway. “Break itthe fuckup.”
The food stops flying.
Theo strides in the door, glaring at everyone. “If my girlfriend’s cast has to be reset, I will payevery single fucking one of youback with cat shit in your mailboxes. And worse.”
Marley fans herself.
She’s not the only one.
“Is that the porn star?” Grey mutters to me while he wipes cucumber sauce out of his hair.
“Naked motivational knitter,” I reply. Jitter’s still trying to eat, and I’m still trying to separate him from his dessert.
“Zen’s coming themself next time they want curry.”
I try to repress a snort of laughter, and I fail.
Miserably.
“I am so sorry,” Marley says again, but she’s only half paying attention.
The rest of her is watching Theo lift Laney out of the booth where she’s mostly escaped the food fight unscathed.
