Page 88 of The Rules of Dating

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I wasn’t the best cook, but I didn’t want to mess up this dinner. It was important to me that our meal be homecooked to offset the coldness of this day. There was something inherently comforting about a homecooked meal. So to be on the safe side, I opted for a simple dinner of spaghetti, salad, and grilled artichoke, a combination I often made for myself when I was having a night in alone and felt like comfort food.

I was standing at the counter, stirring the tomato sauce, and Saylor was coloring at the table when Colby came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Thank you for this.” He pressed his mouth to my ear. “There’s something I want to say right now, but I don’t want it to be marred by this day. I don’t want today to be the first time I say it.”

Chills ran through my body. I love you, too, Colby. I never realized how much until this shit happened.

He returned to the table to draw animals with his daughter. They had about five minutes before I would make them clear the crayons and paper so we could prepare for dinner.

After Colby helped me set the table, we all took our seats for a nice, peaceful pasta supper. Colby and I stared at Saylor a little more than usual as she slurped her noodles—as if that simple act was the most fascinating thing we’d ever seen. Soon her face was covered in tomato sauce. I caught his eyes glistening, and it broke my heart. Nothing could lessen the weight of my heart tonight.

Dinner was interrupted by a knock on the door.

My stomach sank. “Who’s that?”

“I don’t know. But I’m damn well checking the peephole this time,” Colby said as he stood up.

Relief washed over me at the sight of the guys standing there. Jesus, it was like I had PTSD from last night. Would I ever hear a knock on his door and not be reminded of it?

“Holden told us,” Owen said as he stepped inside.

He held a bag of chicken wings. I laughed a little—as if chicken wings could make this mess disappear.

“We can’t talk about it right now,” Colby said, nodding toward Saylor. “If you know what I mean.”

“We’ll talk in code,” Holden said.

“How are you doing, Billie?” Brayden asked.

Shrugging, I sighed. “You know…”

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered with a sympathetic look.

“I brought you some of your favorite beer,” Holden said as he handed it to Colby.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” Colby took the beer to the fridge before returning to the table.

“And donuts for Saylor!” Brayden lifted a box that he’d been holding.

She jumped in her seat. “Yay! Donuts!”

Despite their best efforts to cheer us up, the mood still felt somber.

Holden pulled up a chair and cleared his throat. “So anyway, we really have to do something about the trash problem around here lately.”

Brayden crossed his arms. “Yeah, we need to take out the trash.”

I guessed the talking in code had commenced.

“We’ve decided not to talk tonight about whether we’re taking the trash in or throwing it out,” Colby said. “We’re trying to let the dust settle a bit first.”

Owen, who was still dressed in his work clothes per usual, chimed in. “Okay. But I just want to say this. Sometimes when you let the trash in, it really starts to stink. My opinion is not to let the trash in at all. To light a match to the garbage and fight it with everything you have. Let it burn. We also have some money left over for sanitation emergencies such as this.”

“I hear you,” Colby said. “And I appreciate that. I really do. But there’s also risk in fighting garbage with fire.” He took a long breath. “It can explode.”

“That’s very true.” Holden nodded. “And I just want to put this out there. If you need any help seducing and manipulating said garbage, just say the word.”

Brayden cackled. “You think you can solve every situation with your—”