Page 37 of Into Ruin

For fuck’s sake.

“No,” I say through my teeth. “I’m a fine cook.”

I can’t even look in Camden’s direction. He said nothing about my return this afternoon. He’s said nothing at all, really, since he arrived just in time for this meal. But I think if I looked at him, he’d smirk, and I’d lose it.

Emotionally.

Because I’minsanefor coming back here on the heels of his proposition.

“So is Church.” Lucas grins. “So it’s settled. Royal can be with me or Connor the following week, and we’ll put him in charge of salads or some shit.”

“Why doesn’t Church just do the same?” I point my fork at Camden, still focusing on Lucas. “Unless you like bad meals.”

Camden scoffs. “I try to tell Royal what to do and I come out of that kitchen bruised.”

Royal rolls his eyes. “Hardly.”

“Wooden spoons are no joke.”

I have a sharp memory of being smacked in the thigh with a wooden spoon, wielded by my brother when we were kids. It absolutely left bruises. I find myself smiling—then quickly try to put a leash on it.

No smiling at the jerk who’s posting sex videos of you for profit.

My gaze flicks to the jerk unwillingly. He looks too perfect. The messed-up hair that could’ve been crafted by a magazine stylist, his blue eyes, the cords of his neck. Then, of course, the picture of his naked ass cheeks flexing as he fucked that girl the first night, comes unbidden to the forefront of my mind.

Heat crawls up my cheeks. I really shouldn’t be thinking about him naked at a time like this.

Back to the matter at hand. “How about I take Royal, and Church can…”fuck off?

Camden rests his elbow on the table and braces his chin on his fist. He meets my gaze, his brows lifting. There’s that smirk. “You’re not a team player, baby Lawson?”

Royal snickers. I clench my jaw.

“If you’re half decent, then you and Church would make a decent meal. Please only let us suffer once.” That from Connor.

Ugh.

“I think it’s a solid plan,” Royal says. “In fact, maybe Harper could just take my place every week. Since you’re not paying rent.”

My jaw drops. “I will pay?—”

“You have literally no money,” he interrupts. “Food is more than fair. Better than asking you to clean the bathroom.”

I wrinkle my nose at that thought. Did it cross my mind? Yes. What is it with guys and not brushing their beard hair out of the freaking sink? But then, miraculously, it’ll be clean. Same with the kitchen. One day there will be dishes stacked in the sink, and the next, nothing. So I guess that’s one chore that the guys share.

“Fine.” I tap my index finger on the table and glare at my brother. “But?—”

“You’re not happy about it, yeah, yeah.” He takes a bite. “What else is new?”

Bad idea.Bad, bad, bad idea.

And yet.

The house has been quiet for a while. The hour is late. I ease my bedroom door open and pause, peeking out down the hall. There’s a night light plugged into an outlet near the bathroom, but other than that—dark and empty.

Everyone has gone to bed, and I am about to do something insane.

Like follow a demand from Camden Church.

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