Page 59 of Dancing in the Dark

“Really?” I pick up my fork and stab a chunk of egg. “You seem to have nailed the brief with this recipe.”

“Exactly.” He remains where he is, foregoing a seat and folding at the hips instead, resting one elbow on the counter, all so he can look into my eyes while he eats. “I was spiraling like an idiot until I remembered eggs. Beans, too.”

“Cottage cheese.” I bring my fork up and hum my appreciation for his labor. “Lots of nuts and seeds, too.”

“Right. So then I stopped spiraling, and everything felt okay again. Is there a reason you don’t eat meat?”

“Mmm.” I scoop more into my mouth, then I draw my coffee closer. “It icks me out.”

“Like a… religious ick thing, or a ‘we don’t harm animals’ ick thing? Because those are two entirely different things.”

“It’s an ‘I saw the creepy, dirty, middle-aged man next door slaughter an actual pig in his front yard when I was a kid’ thing. The pig’s name was Greg.”

Choking on his eggs, Charlie’s eyes flare impossibly wide. “Greg?”

“Mmhm. I’d spent months watching Greg grow through the gaps in our fence, from a cute little piglet into a big fat honking thing. He was my friend, and even though I never actually saw my neighbor play with Greg for fun, I figured he must’ve really cared about him. Ya know, since he fed him so well.”

Charlie sets his fork down and covers his mouth with his hand. If eyes could speak, his would be saying ‘oh, honey.’

“Greg squealed and ran and fought back against that jerk, and since he fought, the first slice across his neck didn’t quite get the job done.”

“Yikes.”

“Mmhm. Greg bled and cried and was probably in a great deal of pain. I, stupidly, sat and watched the whole ordeal since I was a child and didn’t have the common sense to look away. My neighbor noticed me there after a while, and I guess he saw how completely freaked out I was, so in apology, he knocked on our door a few days later and handed my mother a tray of pork chops.”

“This is like…” His cheeks flame red. “The worst horror movie ever.”

“My mom cooked Greg for dinner that night and seemed genuinely entertained by my distress. Now…” I shrug. “I don’t hate anyone else for eating meat. That’s their prerogative. But even thinking about trying makes me want to gag.” I take a long sip of my coffee and shake off another traumatic memory from my childhood. “But you do you, boo. I hope you don’t hear Greg’s screams next time you toss bacon into the frying pan.”

Barking out a playful laugh, he turns from the counter and opens the fridge, taking out a half-full carton of orange juice and setting it down by his plate. “Joke’s on you, Ms. Lewis. Because bacon is expensive, which means I don’t get to toss it into the frying pan, ever.” He snags two tall glasses from the cupboard, then he comes back and pours juice for us both. “Also, not to make light of something absolutely real and valid and meaningful to you, but you probably noticed my baby has a thing for hot dogs on sticks… right?” He brings uncertain eyes back up to mine. “No one truly knows what kinda meat is in those fuckers, but I bet there’s probably bits and pieces of Greg’s kind in there.”

“Mmhm.” Gag. Gag. Gag. “I can smell it on her breath at least three times a week.”

“Does it bother you? Because that could prove to be a sticking point amongst a trio of people trying really hard to be good for each other. If Mia’s making the gaga screams for her deep-fried mystery meat, and you’re staring at her like she murdered a live pig right in front of you…”

“I’ve never looked at her that way.” I sit tall on my stool and pinch a chunk of egg between my thumb and fingers. Placing it on my tongue, I grin bright enough to untangle the knot of his brows. “Everyone gets to eat whatever they want to eat, and it’s not like Aubree doesn’t make sex noises every time Tim plops a burger in front of her at the bar.” I wrinkle my nose. “She makes love to those burgers. It’s concerning.”

He snorts.

“I respect everyone else’s choice to eat whatever makes them happy, and expect them to respect my choice in return. Although once she’s older,” I pinch a little more egg between my fingers and drop it into my smiling mouth, “I might tell Mia about Greg. Let her make her own mind up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Laughing, he shoots a hand forward and hooks his palm around the back of my neck. Dragging me closer, he presses his lips to mine and sweeps all thoughts of Greg out of my mind like he was never there in the first place. “How mad would you be if I took you back to the bedroom and messed up all that pretty hair you spent so long styling?”

“I didn’t spend that long doing it. Still…” I inch backward and enjoy the way his seductive smirk turns to a pout. “Don’t mess me up now. I have to leave soon, or we risk Mia getting back and discovering⁠—”

The apartment door swings open and reveals a chattering Mia clutched happily in Cato’s arms, her chest to his belly, so her focus is, fortunately, pointed the other way.

Not Cato’s, though.

“Er… Detective.” Chuckling, he wanders in and sets Mia’s purple Gabby’s Dollhouse bag on the floor. Right beside mine. “This is an interesting turn of events.”

“Fifi?” Mia twists frantically in his arms, pretzeling herself into a knot because he refuses to let her down. “Oh my gosh! Fifi’s here!” She fights his grip and bangs her fists against his chest, and while Charlie zooms around the counter and frantically searches for a shirt amongst his piles of clean laundry, she escapes the athlete whose face burns a horrifying red.

Horrifying for me. Not him.

“Fifiiiiii!” She sprints my way, her arms flailing wide and her adorable hair pulled into two piggy tails today. She smiles and shows off the gap in her teeth that scarred me almost as much as the Greg incident, then she bounds up from the floor as though gravity simply doesn’t apply to her. Scrambling onto my lap, she wraps her arms around my neck and threatens to pop my head straight off my shoulders. “Did you come to see me, Fifi?” She slams a juicy, noisy kiss onto my cheek. “Oh my gosh! I didn’t even fink to tell you I was sleeping at Cato’s last night! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!”

“No, it’s alright⁠—”