Me
Wait. Can you actually cook? I figured you had a private chef.
Will
Why would you assume that?
Me
Because I can’t imagine you carrying out domestic duties.
Will
Maybe you don’t know me all that well then.
Me
What time should I stop by?
Will
I’ll be finished in the gym by 6 p.m., so let’s say 7?
Me
I’ll send a calendar invite.
Will
Drew, it’s literally six hours from now. We don’t need an email to confirm.
Me
Actually, we do. This isn’t a social visit, even if you are cooking dinner. And once again, the location of our meeting is in direct breach of rule two.
And I’m already mentally cycling through my wardrobe for an outfit.
Will
Shall I wear a suit?
When an involuntary bubble of laughter escapes my throat, Colton and Lydia pause their conversation and look at me.
“Sorry,” I say on a wince. “I was just checking the football scores. Detroit rolled over Pittsburg.”
Lydia’s brows pull together before she shakes her head. “Some people find the strangest things amusing.”
Fuck off, Lydia.
Me
Regular clothes will do just fine.
Will
There’s a first time for everything, I guess.
Me
