Page 92 of Seriously Pucked

I have a lot of thinking to do. About Dani, about Nathan and Michael.

About me.

And what I want.

CHAPTER 26

Michael

I pickup yet another pair of Crew’s dirty socks off the kitchen island with salad tongs and carry them to the laundry closet next to the powder room. Opening the door, I flip the lid of the stackable washer and dryer up and fling the socks into it. Back in the kitchen, I toss the salad tongs in the trash.

Ever since Dani left for Luna’s twenty hours and some odd minutes ago, Crew is behaving like a frat boy, even more so than usual. He’s nesting in the basement and emerging only to crap up the kitchen with his takeout boxes and dirty clothes that he seems to peel on and off and then forget about.

I’m frustrated and I’m fucking over it.

Between Crew’s slobbish pouting and Nathan’s belligerent cold-shoulder, I’ve had enough of these two assholes.

I know they’re still mad about being caught off-guard by my marriage proposal to Dani. I get it. But I maintain that I’m allowed to be impulsive too. They do it all the time. It’s not fair that I don’t get to just go with my gut and let Dani know I want forever with her.

Pulling out the disinfecting spray, I make liberal use on the island, wiping it down three times before I finally feel like it’s free of Crew skin cells and sweat and I can start cooking.

I get onions and peppers on the stove and then I text Dani.

I respect your space but I just want you to know I love you.

I love you too. I’m staying at Luna’s again tonight but I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

She has ended it with a kiss emoji, so I’m not concerned she’s planning anything drastic, but I’m not sure what I can do to ease her mind right now. I’m also frustrated that she chose to run off to Luna’s instead of staying and talking.

Crew emerges from the basement like a teenager who has smelled food. He sniffs the air, hands stuffed into the pouch of his hoodie. He’s wearing basketball shorts and yet another pair of socks that I’m sure I’m going to find on the furniture later. “What’s for dinner?”

I grab my pan by the handle and shake it to stir the vegetables. I eye him. “I’m having fajitas. You’re having whatever the hell you can cook or buy for yourself.”

His jaw drops. “Are you for real?”

“Yes, I’m for real. Why the hell would I cook for you right now?”

“This is just great,” Crew snaps. “I’m not the one who decided to rush things and getengagedand I’m being punished?”

“You’re being punished because you’ve left clothes and dirty dishes all over the house and because I don’t feel like sitting across the table from you right now.” I don’t care if it’s not rational. I’m tired of being taken for granted as the fixer. Right now, I don’t want to fix this. I want someone else to do the heavy lifting.

Nathan is coming down the stairs. “What’s for dinner?”

“He’s not feeding us,” Crew tells him. “He’s only cooking for himself. We’re having meals withheld for not jumping up and down in excitement when he went and proposed to our girlfriend behind our backs.”

Nathan is scowling. “Hughes, what the hell?”

He can scowl all he wants. These are fucking fajitas for one.

“You locked the bedroom door,” I tell Nathan. “That wasn’t cool.”

“It’smybedroom.”

“No, it’s not. It’sourbedroom. You don’t get to lay claim to it solo just because Dani isn’t here.”

“The fuck I don’t. Crew has the basement. You have a pull-out sofa in your office. Where am I supposed to sleep if not in the bedroom?”

He did it to stake a claim. That the bed that Dani sleeps in belongs to him, because he designed it and paid for it, and because Dani is his, not mine. It was a dick move solely based on my asking Dani to marry me without his permission.

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