“You were supposed to set a timer.” Jagger sounds equally exasperated, madly wiping down the countertop. “The recipe said you had to cook it for exactly forty-five minutes.”
“I know,” I groan. “You only reminded me 1,000 times. I followed the instructions.”
“This has to be perfect.” Jagger looks into the oven at the congealed mess that’s supposed to be lasagna. Cheese has bubbled over the sides, dripping over the oven racks while turning black on top.
Cooking might not have been our best idea.
I take it out, having to wrestle with it to sever the burned cheese connected to the oven.
Nash sighs as I place the mess down. “I don’t think it’s supposed to look like that.”
“No shit,” Jagger snaps, checking his watch. “They’re going to be here in ten minutes.”
“Maybe we should just order takeout?” I gingerly poke the black mass with a fork and am met by hard resistance before being able to access the middle of it. How is it possible for it tobe so black on the outside yet the pasta sheets still be crunchy in the middle? “This is beyond saving.”
“How about pizza from Marco’s?” Nash suggests.
“We can get pizza from Marco’s anytime,” Jagger sighs. “Tonight was supposed to be special. We’re trying to impress Delilah’s friends and prove to them that we’re not total assholes, remember?”
I sniff the lasagna. “They’re not going to be impressed if we give them food poisoning.”
“Fine!” Jasper huffs in frustration and throws his oven-mitted hands in the air. “I guess Marco’s will have to do, but they’re always so busy.”
“The pizzas will be here in thirty minutes,” Nash remarks smugly.
Jagger’s jaw drops. “You already ordered?”
Nash shrugs nonchalantly. He thinks of everything. “I wanted a backup plan.”
“Did you have that little faith in our cooking?” Jagger demands crossly.
“Do you really want me to answer that question?” Nash scoffs.
Jagger glowers at him while I wrap my arm around Nash’s neck to give him a noogie. “You’re the fucking best, man.”
The sound of the doorbell has us all jumping.
“They’re early,” Jagger wails, quickly stashing the ruined lasagna back in the oven before hurling the oven mitts across the room.
“Chill, dude.” I pat his shoulder. “We’ve got this, okay? The main thing is that they’re here.”
“Easy for you to say,” Jagger mutters. “They don’t already hate you.”
“And tonight is your chance to change their minds, remember?” I give his shoulder a squeeze. “Delilah is giving youa second chance, so her friends will come around too. You just have to show them what we see.”
Granted, if I went off what I read about Jagger in the media, I’d probably think he was a major asshole too, but it’s probably best to keep that to myself. I’ve never seen him this rattled.
When the doorbell buzzes again, Nash, the more reserved of the three of us, darts his eyes nervously toward the door. Despite his relaxed posture, I can tell he’s nervous too, so it’s down to me to play host and make sure that my packmates don’t mess this up.
“I’ll get it,” I tell them, enthusiastically bounding over to greet Delilah and her three friends.
“Finally.” As soon as I open the door, I find Kady impatiently tapping her foot. She’s the one we’re going to have to work the hardest to impress.
“Hey, Tae.” Delilah smiles shyly, stepping over the threshold as I open my arms to welcome her into a hug.
She looks positively breathtaking in a silky orange dress that perfectly complements her skin tone and the golden butterfly clips in her dark hair.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Everyone else fades into the background as we make eye contact. “I’ve missed you.”
