“We’re not agreeing on anything.”
He smirked. “And yet here we are. Eating dinner together like a functional couple.”
“We’re not a couple.”
“I know. That’s what makes it funny.”
I stood, grabbed my plate, and headed for the kitchen before I could say something I’d regret. Or throw the pasta at his head. Both options had merit.
The house had settled into a hush by the time I made my way back downstairs, the kind of quiet that only came when Hazel was well and truly out for the night. I’d lingered over her basket longer than necessary, watching the slow rise and fall of her tiny chest, waiting for that last little twitch of her fingers that meant she’d given in to sleep completely.
I stepped into the kitchen and stopped short.
The dishes were gone.
Or rather, they were done.
The counters were wiped clean, the pots stacked neatly on the drying rack. Griffin stood by the sink with a glass of wine in his hand, looking far too pleased with himself.
“You cleaned.”
He smirked. “Observant.”
“You don’t do dishes.”
“I’ve done them at least twice in my life.” He took a sip of wine, watching me. “Three, if you count tonight.”
I waited for the punchline. There had to be a punchline. But no, he genuinely counted three times as an achievement.
My gaze dropped to the glass and my brows rose.
He gestured toward the wine rack with his glass. “I cleaned. You get the wine.”
I moved to the drying rack, inspecting his handiwork. Everything looked fine until I spotted my favorite non-stick pan with visible scratches across the surface.
“Griffin!”
“What?” he asked from the living room.
I grabbed the pan and stalked after him. He was sprawled on the sofa, ankles crossed, wine glass balanced on his knee.
I held up the pan. “What did you use on this?”
He glanced at it. “The scrubby thing.”
“Steel wool?”
“Is that what it’s called?”
My jaw dropped. “This pan is non-stick. You—” I pressed my fingers to my temple. “You can’t use steel wool on non-stick. It ruins the coating.”
“How was I supposed to know that?”
“It’s common sense!”
“It’s a pan, Princess. I didn’t think it had rules.”
“You ruined an £80 pan and that’s all you can say?”
