Page 27 of Ethan
Griffin frowned. “Something wrong, Ethan? Is there an injury report I need to be aware of?”
“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Nothing like that. Actually, I’m here for Dean.”
Griffin shrugged but didn’t question it. He turned toward Dean and jerked his head. “Dean, over here.”
Dean walked over, looking surprised and a little curious. “Me?” he asked, his eyes flicking to the paper bag in my hand.
“I’m just doing my usual rounds,” I said, a little too casually, hiding the paper bag behind me. “Thought I’d check on how your leg is doing.”
His expression softened, the curiosity shifting into something lighter, almost playful. “You came all the way here just to check on me?”
My cheeks warmed, and I cleared my throat, ignoring his question. “How’s the leg?”
Dean didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he shifted his weight onto the injured leg, bouncing slightly before breaking into a jog in place. “Good,” he said, grinning. “See?”
I raised a brow, remembering how he brushed it off yesterday. “You’re sure? No pain if you push yourself too hard?”
Dean hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Well… maybe a little. But really, it’s so much better. Barely noticeable.”
“Not really sure whether I should trust what you say.”
Dean smirked, stepping a little closer. “Fine. I’ll do ten push-ups. No. Fifty. Right now, just to prove it.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t need to go that far. Anyway…” I held out the paper bag. He blinked, clearly surprised. “For you.”
“What’s this?”
“I got curious about what you said, so I tried it,” I said, my voice faltering as I felt the heat rise to my face. “Had an extra, thought you might want it.”
Dean took the bag carefully, almost reverently, and peeked inside. A grin spread across his face as he pulled out the sandwich and sniffed it.
“No way,” he said, surprised. “You actually made it?”
I tried to look anywhere but at him. “Just figured I’d see what all the fuss was about. I had to look up how to make it online. I wasn’t sure if it was exactly how your brother did it.”
Dean took a big bite, chewing with exaggerated satisfaction. “It’s perfect.”
I watched as his whole face lit up while he took another bite, grin even wider. The sight of it was strangely satisfying, a warmth blooming in my chest despite myself.
Then, mouth still half-full, he asked, “So… what did you think? You like it?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting a smile. “It’s not bad.”
Chapter 7
Dean
The dining hall was loud.Too loud for someone trying to think about banana and mayonnaise.
Specifically, the banana and mayo sandwich Ethan had made me earlier this afternoon. It had tasted like home.
The moment I bit into it, I thought of Carter, of late nights back in Thornebane when we were half-starved from training and raided the fridge like feral raccoons.
And Ethan… Ethan had made it for me. Because I’d mentioned I missed home.
He hadn’t teased me. He hadn’t asked dumb questions. He just made me something that tasted like a memory and shoved it into my hands like it wasn’t a big deal.
He was prickly. That had been my first impression of him. He was sharp-eyed, snarky, hard to read. But underneath it, there was something warm. Something careful. Steady. Sweet.
