“Me? What about you? Gone for six years and now you’re coming over for regular dinners? That piece-of-shit dad kick rocks so you can actually live your life or what?”
“Nick,” Naomi chastises.
Nick just rolls his eyes and playfully shoves her shoulder. “I’m teasing, kinda. Come on. Mom is making alfredo-stuffed shells,” he says, biting his fist dramatically, like he can’t wait to eat, though I’m pretty sure that’s all the guy does.
I walk with him, glancing over my shoulder to watch Naomi gathering up her gardening tools before following us into the house. My feet pause as I debate turning round to help her then think better of it.
“Do I even want to know who fucked up your face?” Nick asks.
“Couldn’t tell you if I wanted to,” I say cryptically.
He nods like he understands. Even if it isn’t necessarily a secret, no good comes from me talking about anything to do with the club. He gets that and, thankfully, he drops it.
The smell of garlic bread and pasta hits me as soon as I step through the door.
“Are all my boys here now?” Mom calls from the kitchen.
“I got the last one,” Nick shouts triumphantly as we enter the kitchen and find Anthony helping dice something.
“Hey, brother,” he says with a smile.
“Good to see you,” I reply as Mom walks over and kisses me on the cheek.
“I’m glad you could make it, baby. Dinner is ready so grab a plate and dish up.”
Anthony scrapes the vegetables on his cutting board into the salad bowl then heads over to wash his hands as Naomi steps into the kitchen.
Conversation comes easily, and we chat about our weeks—them more than me—as we dish up our plates. When we move to take our seats, I hang back for a moment to see where Naomi sits before casually dropping into the seat beside her. She gives me a small but knowing smile that has my heart tightening inside my chest. As much as I wish we didn’t have to hide, I can’t deny that sneaking around with her is the thrill of a fucking lifetime.
I scoot my chair all the way in so my legs are fully concealed, and Naomi does the same, so I’m able to easily rest my left hand on her inner thigh while we eat, and no one is any the wiser.
“So, I got tickets to next week’s game. You in for some baseball and Seattle dogs?” Nick asks.
“The baseball part doesn’t sound too bad. Hot dogs covered in cream cheese and grilled onions is where I draw the line,” I reply, shaking my head.
Nick rolls his eyes. Our age-long debate of whether they’re disgusting or delicious is alive and well, I see.
“Whatever, you can have your lame-ass mustard and relish while I have my delicious savory treat. You in?”
I laugh, but then my smile fades. My father’s words ring in the back of my head, and suddenly my appetite is gone.
“Not sure I’ll be able to get the time off. It’s pretty busy right now.”
Nick’s disappointment is evident, but he nods. “No worries. I had a co-worker who was dying to go anyway.”
“Or you could take me, your other brother?” Anthony interjects, easing the tension in the room.
Everyone chuckles—Anthony is the furthest thing from a sports fan.
“You’re so whiney,” Nick retorts before the conversation moves on.
After dinner, we all help clean the kitchen, but when we’re done, I notice Naomi has disappeared. When I can’t find herdownstairs, I head up to her bedroom, knock gently on the door then push inside to find her sitting on her bed texting. She glances up at me and smiles before returning to her message.
“Hey, sorry. The group chat was blowing up.”
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She nods. “Ari is engaged, and Cassi is moving across the country. A lot is changing.”