Page 43 of The Truths We Seek

“No Carlos?” I ask as I shuffle up beside him and pinch his pert and peachy hiney. He laughs softly, leaning over and kissing my forehead before seasoning the sauce he’s putting together.

“Gave him the day off after last night.” I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, wistfully looking at the coffee machine while I ponder if the caffeine is worth the noise and hassle that machine causes.

These guys don’t keep soda in the house, which usually doesn’t bother me so much, but Coke is a great coffee substitute when I feel like this.

“What are you making?” I ask as I decide the coffee is worth the risk and start tapping away on the machine, wincing when the bean grinder whirrs to life.

“Tuscan chicken,” he responds casually. “Some people call it marry me chicken, but I prefer the original name.”

My heart races in my chest as my eyes go wide.

He.

Did.

Not.

I turn to look at him and he’s down on one knee. My breath stutters in my chest as my mouth opens and closes like a stupid mute freaking fish until he cracks up laughing. “Oh, your face, pretty girl. Do not fear, no planned proposals here. Good to know where you’re at.”

Blinking at him, I try to regulate my breathing back to normal. “You’re such an ass.”

He climbs to his feet, still chuckling. “Yeah, but you adore my ass.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s peachy.”

He turns and struts back to the stove, sashaying that peachy behind of his while I shake my head. This version of Meyer is one of my favorites. The playful, not so serious version. He doesn’t come out often, and that might be why I treasure these moments the way I do.

As I keep being reminded lately, life is way too fucking short not to.

“So, we were thinking, since you’re likely feeling a little delicate, the four of us could do an old-school, classic cheesy date night of movies, good food, snacks, obviously, and just relaxation. What do you say?”

Grinning, I nod. “Sounds like perfection, as long as there are no horror films.”

“How about we give you first pick?” He teases and I poke my tongue out at him. “Do that again, and I’ll put it to better use.”

“Promises, promises,” I toy with him. “You said something similar last night.”

“That I did, but I’m not one to take advantage of a lady. Tonight, however, depending how much of my chicken you eat… well, it’s not called marry me chicken for nothing.”

Laughter bubbles from my lips when he winks at me over his shoulder again.

Once my coffee is made, I hop up on the counter since Carlos isn’t here to bitch me out and just enjoy watching him cook.

Everything he does is done with such ease, yet it appears to be flawless. It smells amazing anyway.

The silence between us is comfortable in a way I’d never known before finding these three.

“Food’s nearly done, want to head to the cinema room? The other two should be there already. I’ll bring down the food once it’s plated up.”

I jump down from the counter and move toward him, feeling a little awkward about just leaving him. “You don’t want help bringing it down?”

He shakes his head as he turns the stove off. “No, I’ve got this. Go get comfy. Thank you for keeping me company while I finished.”

I push up on my tiptoes and chastely kiss his cheek. “I’ll always keep you company, and if you’re sure then I’ll go pick a movie.”

“Just no cheesy romcoms.” He pleads and I grin widely.

“I make no promises. Musical romances are a weakness of mine.”

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