Chapter Twenty-Seven
Quinn
It’s a shame I’m forced to skip the appetizer and salad, but my disappointment is all but forgotten when the servers begin wheeling out the entrees. My mouth waters when the chicken curry slides in front of me, but my gaze moves to Desmond further down. My dinner will taste even better once I’ve watched him gobble Aven’s jizz.
My heart sinks as a plate of curry is placed in front of him. He tucks right in and starts eating without question, but there is no parsley on top of his dish.
Aven catches my eye, and we share a mental question:Where is the Cum Curry?
There’s no time to consider anything as Eve’s voice punches through my mental panic. “I didn’t know curry was on the menu. How do I get a plate of that?”
“It’s what Aven and I prepared so that I wouldn’t get sick,” I say. “I’m not sure there was any left.”
“And you lethimhave some?” She pops her thumb toward Desmond.
The server stops and leans closer. “There were two more plates in the back. I could bring one out for you if you’d like.”
Fuck.
“I’d love that, thanks.” Eve passes the lamb back to the server.
I have to find a way to deter her from eating the curry. With the gusto of a malnourished dog, I start shoveling my food into my mouth. “God, it’s so spicy that I’ll have to eat it fast,” I say as rice tumbles out of my mouth. “I’ll be shitting fire for days after this. Are you sure you want to eat it?”
“As unappetizing as you’re making it look, yeah,” she says.
I stop shoveling. “It’s not very good.”
“Hey!” Aven says. “That’s my ma’s recipe, and I’ll have you know it’s the best fucking curry I’ve ever tasted. And I’ve been to India.”
“That’s all I needed to hear,” Eve says.
I pin Aven with a glare, and he realizes what’s going on.
“This isn’t my best batch, though,” he mutters.
But she won’t be swayed. She even claps her hands and does a happy dance when the server places the dish in front of her. Meanwhile, I’m hyperventilating because I recognize that wilted sprig of parsley on top of the plate.
The world seems to move in slow motion as Eve grips the fork and dips it into the sauce. Before she can raise the utensil to her mouth, I knock it out of her hand and pull the plate in front of me. It isn’t my proudest moment, but I start shoveling rice, curry, and Aven’s essence into my fucking pie hole. With my hands, no less. I’m the picture of a maniac as I moan and groan and smack like a piece of shit.
“Sorry, I lied. It’s the best curry I’ve ever had. I just wanted a little more to myself, and I was almost done with my plate.” I keep shoveling, unable to look up for fear of all the eyes on me.
The server hurries off, and I don’t stop eating until Eve has another plate in front of her.
She places a protective arm around her food. “I don’t like to fight, but I will where my food is concerned. Don’t pull that shit again,” she says.
Fuck, she’s pissed. And as I look around, I realize everyone is pretty annoyed by my presence right now. I’ll have to explain this to the others so that they don’t hate me. I guess it’s impossible to avoid being the one they talk about at the next retreat.
I want to cry as I wipe my hands on the napkin. For someone who wants nothing more than to fit in, I have a bad habit of ending up on the outside looking in.
“It’s my fault,” Aven says, though he only speaks loud enough for the immediate group to hear.
My head pops up. Surely he isn’t about to tell them what we just did. I planned to tell the girls, but I also planned to spin it in a way that isn’t quite the truth. I was going to say Aven sneezed on that one, and that’s why the parsley was there. They don’t need to know that he sneezed with his dick.
“We put extra hot peppers in that one. It was meant for Desmond,” Aven whispers. “Quinn just didn’t want you to end up shitting lava for the next few days.”
Eve’s anger dissipates, and she laughs. The sound eases my worry almost completely. “Why didn’t you just say so? I would have eaten it anyway, but at least I wouldn’t have been cussing you out in my head.”
“I panicked,” I say, and it’s the fucking truth.
