Page 79 of Bad Boy
“Cut it out, you little shit,” Mom retorts, accidentally letting the curse slip. I burst out laughing at the stunned faces around me.
So fucking uptight.
Diana clears her throat awkwardly and announces that dinner is ready before we follow her into the dining room.
The bright chandelier illuminates the otherwise dim room, creating a calm and relaxing ambiance that showcases the beautifully decorated table. Fall leaves and tiny pumpkins dot the orange fabric draped along the center, and cream candles are interspersed throughout.
Damn.
Diana is good. I’ll give her that. I can see how they lure people in, win them over, and buy them out. Lincoln’s right. Sharks. In a really good disguise.
The table is already set with what appears to be a full Thanksgiving-style meal—complete with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and of course, macaroni and cheese.
We take our seats, and I grab the one next to Lincoln. It’s torture seeing him all dressed up, looking handsome as fuck, and not being able to touch him.
Grady sits on my other side, with Sierra across from us and all of the parents at the end.
“This table is absolutely stunning, Diana,” Mom gushes. “And the food smells amazing. Thank you again for having us.” She’s trying to be extra polite after slipping up and cursing at me earlier. I have to bite my cheek so I don’t snort at her syrupy sweet tone.
“Thank you, Raina. I can’t take credit for the food. We have a five-star personal chef for that. But I do love a themed party. And I couldn’t help but go autumnal with the décor. Then I figured we could have a month-early Friendsgiving of sorts.”
“Oh. It’s a gorgeous idea, Diana. I love it,” Kendra coos.
Everyone else agrees about the beautiful table and theme. Because, well, it is. Luckily, the turkey is already carved, and we start circulating platters of food. Soon, my plate is overflowing with Thanksgiving goodness.
When the clanking of utensils and the soft murmur of individual conversations take over the room, I lean into Lincoln, whispering in his ear.
“This dinner got me thinking, Preppy. I wanted to let you know that I’m thankful for you. And I guess the academy, too. For assigning you as my student advisor. Because honestly, Linc, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a really long time.” I punctuate my declaration with a firm squeeze to his upper thigh.
He stares back at me, and we’re lost in our own world for a moment. A million light-years away. His eyes flick to my mouth and mine to his. Tempting me.
I know he can’t exactly respond appropriately right now. Neither of us can. But I’m starting to realize I can’t handlejust friendsanymore. I mean, who even wants that? Is it him? Is it me? Because I don’t think either of useverwanted this relationship to be platonic.
“We’ll talk later,” I whisper, then sit up straight again.
Across the table, I find Sierra watching Linc and me with her perfectly arched brows pulled down in the center. I ignore whatever she may be thinking and take another bite of the stuffing.
“What are these little chewy things in the stuffing?” I ask no one in particular after swallowing a mouthful of said chewy things. “They’re fucking good.”
“Giblets,” Diana replies drolly.
I hum my response, not really knowing what that means. I devour another bite dripping with savory homemade gravy. So fucking good.
Lincoln giggles in that awkward way I love so much.
“What? What is it?” I mumble around my mouthful.
He continues to chuckle adorably, and I love making him laugh, so I keep going, unconcerned by the uptight adults around us.
“Tell me, dude. Is it intestines or something? Fuck, are we eating the turkey’s asshole?!”
Lincoln bursts out laughing, as do Sierra, Grady, and, unsurprisingly, my mom.
I never claimed to be well-mannered, mature, or even civilized. Maybe they’ll leave me off the guest list next time. Somehow I don’t think I’ll be that lucky.
“It’s gizzards, hearts, and liver, Remi,” Sierra informs me in between giggles.
“Hmm. Well, after thinking it was the asshole, I’m cool with that.” I stab a few of the tiny pieces of meat and chew dramatically. “Still good.” I grin wide, finally pulling a chuckle from Gramps.
