Miles: Will someone pull the stick out of His Royal Chefness’s ass for me? I’d do it, but as I mentioned, I won’t be there for at least ten minutes.
Miles: And I’m bringing someone.
There was, in his estimation, thirty full seconds of blissful silence, the only sound the rain tapping against the roof of his car, the soft whoosh of traffic on the street.
It didn’t last.
His phone buzzed and buzzed and buzzed again as his family’s responses came fast and furious.
Verity: OH MY GOD! IT’S A SUNDAY MIRACLE! ONE OF YOU NEEDS TO SHOUT ABOUT THIS DAY FROM A MOUNTAIN OR SOMETHING. THE SPECIAL, MIRACULOUS DAY ONE OF MY BROTHERS ACTUALLY BRINGS A DATE TO FAMILY DINNER NIGHT!
Urban: We’ll wait for you.
Eli: Since when does Miles have a girlfriend?
Toby: We’re not waiting.
Willow: Of course we’ll wait. I’ll set another place at the table.
Urban: Why ?
Verity: Thanking the big guy for prayers answered, obv. And here I was worried you, Miles and Toby would each head into your mid-life crises alone and pitiful, never to find women willing to put up with you but two of you have proved me wrong. Now, as soon as we get Toby coupled up, I can move on with my life in peace.
Toby: We’re not middle aged.
Urban: We’re not middle aged.
Miles: It’s not a date.
Miles: And we’re not middle aged.
It was absolutely a date.
Maybe not his smartest idea, inviting her out for the first time in ten years to have dinner with him and his family, but when it came to Tabitha, he often acted dumb.
Dumb, reckless and, as he’d pointed out, like a fucking asshole.
Toby: You’re down to four minutes.
Miles: Knock it off. She wanted to stop and get wine first. We’ll be there in a few minutes.
Miles: And no matter what kind of wine it is, you’ll drink it. No dickish comments.
Toby: I don’t make dickish comments about wine.
Urban:
Verity:
Eli:
Verity: Cow poop?
Eli: It’s the closest I could get to bullshit.
Silas: Why the duck am I still in this group chat? Verity I told you to delete me from it.
Silas: Duck! Duckity duck!