He bobs his head. “Yeah, just need to find an omega who wants to share it with me.”
“Or you could be happy alone.”
“Not everyone is you, dude. I want someone to do things with.”
I think about Arbor, and my chest twists. Yeah, probably not a good idea to think about him and the future. He made it perfectly clear he’s not interested in more.
“What about that girl you were seeing? What’s her name?”
“Cherry? Yeah, we broke up.”
“Why?”
His cheeks darken, and he stammers slightly. “Dunno. Just not compatible.”
I put the sauce back on the stove and put the cooked sausages inside. Reaching into my freezer, I grab the garlic bread and throw it in the toaster oven.
“You gonna make a salad?” River asks.
“Why?”
“Just, you know, for some greens? Gotta keep my body in shape. I work an office job, unlike you.”
“How about you make it? Can’t burn the house down with romaine now, can you?”
He sighs and stands up, moving to the fridge and pulling out a head of lettuce and a tomato.
“You should buy the bagged stuff. So much easier.”
I hand him a knife and a cutting board, and he sulks, moving to the other side of the stove to cut the lettuce. He knows how to do this. It’s not that hard. Mom used to make him do this all the time growing up.
When it’s washed and placed in a bowl, he gets to work on the tomato, promptly squishing it by trying to slice too hard. You need a soft touch when working with those fruits.
“Damn things are too hard to cut.”
“Just need practice. It’s what I keep telling you.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t really enjoy cooking.”
“With how much you like to eat, I’m surprised.”
“I’m just busy at work. I don’t have time to learn new things.”
I take the tomato from him and attempt to cut it as well, but my damn hand slips slightly, my mind distracted with thoughts of Arbor, of seeing him again. The guy just won’t fucking leave my mind.
“Damn, see! It’s hard.”
I take a deep breath and slice through it the way I should have from the beginning.
“Get a cucumber from the fridge and the croutons.”
He does as I ask but pours far too many into the bowl, and then quickly shovels them out with his hand, ramming them into his mouth as if to hide the evidence.
“How is work?” I ask while he collects everything I asked for.
“Good, like I said. Got a raise. But yeah, feeling a little overworked. Kind of feel taken advantage of sometimes.”
“Even with the extra money?”
