Page 92 of That's Too Pucking Bad

“Why not?”

“Because I weigh way more than Maya.”

His lips twitch in amusement. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.”

He steps closer, lowering his voice. “Remy, I bench press more than you weigh. Get on.”

Before I can argue, he ducks down, his back to me. “C’mon. I’m not asking twice.”

Muttering under my breath, I climb onto his back, and he stands like I weigh nothing.

“See? Told you,” he says, smirking.

“You’re so annoying,” I mumble, but I catch myself smiling as he carries me to the restaurant.

The Korean BBQ place is warm and cozy, with a private booth in the back. Caleb slides into one side with Maya, and I end up sitting next to Zane on the other.

“Order whatever you want,” Caleb says, tossing a menu at Maya.

“I wanteverything,” she declares, flipping through it.

We end up with way too much food— bulgogi, spicy pork, short ribs, rice cakes, and all the side dishes. Maya insists on grilling, and Caleb’s content to let her, leaning back and watching her messily flip the meat.

“You’re burning it,” he teases.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

They’re bickering like an old married couple, and for once, I don’t feel out of place.

Zane’s knee bumps mine under the table, and I glance at him. He doesn’t say anything, just slides his hand over mine, his fingers curling around it.

It’s stupidly intimate, and I don’t pull away.

“So,” Maya says, her mouth full of rice. “Remy, when’re we doing this again?”

“I don’t know. How about when I don’t have a class the next day?” I say sarcastically.

“Boring.”

Caleb grins. “She’s always been Little Miss Responsible. Haven’t you, Little Remy?”

“Don’t call me that,” I mutter, tossing a napkin at him.

Maya sighs dramatically. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

I glance at Zane, expecting him to look bored, but he’s smiling— this soft, almost unguarded smile that gives me butterflies. I smile back, finally feeling like I belong in his world.

The food is insane. The kind of insane that makes you reconsider everything you thought you knew about flavor. Caleb’s shoving short ribs in his mouth like he’s in a speed-eating contest, while Maya keeps stealing the rice cakes and pretending it wasn’t her.

“Seriously, stop hoarding them,” Caleb says, grabbing her chopsticks mid-air.

“Get your own!” Maya snaps, stuffing one into her mouth and grinning, sauce smeared on her chin.

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