I love chicken pot pie, but after tonight, I may be too scared to ever eat it again. Mila and Cora’s jobs were to make the filling, while we had to make the pie crust. Naturally, my girl did that like it was no big deal, but somehow, I’m struggling. She tried pairing them up with some other guys to make it more interesting, as if cooking with a stranger would be, but Atlas and I shut that shit down. I’m convinced Mila told her about what happened, because this woman is praising every damn thing Atlas does, whereas she scowls at me like my presence in her kitchen personally offends her.
“I thought Emma taught you how to cook.” He arches a brow, looking at my disaster of a station. There’s flour and butter chunks that are stuck to the stainless-steel table, along with a wet spot on the table. I’m not sure if it’s from water or the tears I’ve likely shed after she walked past.
“Fuck you,” I grit out low, so as not to disrupt the tyrant who is marching up to another poor soul, no doubt about to destroy their psyche. “I can cook; this dough is just stupid.”
“Much like you, I don’t think dough has intelligence, Kash.” He snickers.
“You wound me, Atty boy. Take that back.”
“I don’t think I will, Kash.”
“I don’t think I like you anymore.” I scowl at him through narrowed eyes.
“As long as Cora likes me, I don’t care.” He shrugs while rolling out his perfectly thick dough into a pie plate.
I glare at him for a moment, then laugh when a thought occurs to me. “Care Bear may like you, but Noah likes me more.”
Atlas freezes his movements, then lifts his head, dark eyes locked on mine. He stares at me for a moment without saying anything, then very calmly replies, “It’s cute you think that.”
I know I’m Noah’s favorite. After Cora left him with Atlas that one time and I stencil tattooed him, Noah has been my number one little dude. I don’t have others, but even if I did, he’d still be my number one. “I don’t think that. I know that.”
“I know you’re a?—“
“Smooth talker?” Mila asks, sliding up to my side and wrapping her arm around my waist. I glare at Atlas over her head and mouth the wordasshole.
Giving me a dark look, Atlas’ mouth opens to say something, but then his face immediately changes when Cora walks to him with her bowl of filling. His expression softens as he greets her and reaches for it. “Let me take that, Firefly. Can I do anything else, baby?”
What a sap.
Shaking her head, Cora looks from his station to mine, then laughs. Mila’s head follows her line of sight, then she laughs too. “Casanova, I thought you said you could cook.”
“I can cook. It’s not my fault this stupid recipe for dough doesn’t work.”
“Did you follow the instructions?” Mila asks, looking at the mess I have in front of me.
“Sunshine, you know I’m good at following instructions.There.Harder.More.”
Her face turns bright red, and she slips from my reach. “Stop it,” she hisses, her voice low. “Behave yourself.”
“Kash doesn’t know how to behave,” Atlas cuts in. “He was born defective in that way. Probably dropped on his head.”
This little shit. “How about I drop you on your ass?” I offer, with no real malice behind it. Atty may come off as gruff and dickish, but I know it’s just his love language. What kind of brother would he be if he didn’t give me shit? I’d be more worried if he was nice all the time.
“Excuse me?” a shrill voice sounds behind me.
I almost scream as I jump about a foot in the air. Whirling around, I find the tyrant standing there. I’m shocked I didn’t feel her glaring a whole through me.
“How dare you speak like that in my kitchen!”
“I—"
“You are leaving. Right now.” She points to the door.Well shit.
I open my mouth to plead my case but immediately close it whenher eyes narrow. It’s like she’s daring me to speak so she can bludgeon me with the rolling pin on my station.
Softly moving it to the side, I grab Mila’s hand. “Sorry, Sunshine.”
“I didn’t say she had to leave. Only you. Goodbye.” She waves me off with both hands like she’s trying to shoo a cat off her porch.
