“That’s why I’m calling,” Steve says, loudly talking as I hear him shifting gears up and down in his truck.
“Dinner’s booked for seven, so plenty of time. But I wanted to seeyou, buddy. How ‘bout swinging by the shop before then? We can grab a bite for lunch and shoot the breeze for a bit,” he says, sounding matter of fact.
Steve knows that I’ve never had a problem with lunch, dinner, or food in general at any time of the day.
“Sure,” I hear myself saying automatically, but looking over at May, I realize maybe Steve means just him and me for now.
“I’ll get May to drive us down in a bit,” I suggest, but Steve’s quick to shut that down.
“May?” he asks, taken aback but nowhere near as suspicious as he was earlier.
“I don’t think she’s gonna want to hang around with her Dad and his old buddyall day, do you?” he quips and laughs at his own statement.
“But she’s coming to dinner, though, right?” I have to ask. May shoots me a look of concern, her brow knitted when I frown over at her.
I’m certain that Steve said we’re all going to dinner.
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says absently. “I just figured I owed you a better welcome than you got this morning. But, I’ll be honest, I don’t knowwhatI was thinking. Crazy Dad stuff, I guess. But anyway. Look, borrow May’s car, and I’ll see ya in a few, yeah?” he asks.
He’s making me feel like we’re kids again. Telling me what to do even though I’m twice his size. The things we got up to…the things Steve dared me to do. It’s a miracle either of us made it through childhood.
“Sure. See you in a bit,” I tell him dryly, hanging up and expecting May to pout. She twists her mouth instead.
Deep in thought again.
“Your Dad wants me to catch up for lunch,” I explain, which doesn’t bother her until I tell her he wants it just him and me for lunch.
“Oh. Okay then,” May says, raising her brows. “But we’re still all going out for dinner, right?” she asks, and I tell her yes.
“Of course. I think your Dad just feels bad for earlier,” I reason aloud.
May clicks her tongue, noticing the remainder of the coffee spilled earlier.
“I should really clean that up,” she says to herself, and snapping into what looks like housework mode, she starts to busy herself cleaning up again.
And it occurs to me that May might be the type of girl to busy herself like this when she’s a little hurt or upset about something.
Like missing out on lunch with me, and right after we just made it clear we’d probably both rather be eating each other instead of a sandwich.
“May?”
“May,” I finally say, firmly, grabbing her attention.
“C’mere,” I murmur, holding my hand out.
Glad when she takes it, and I pull her close again.
“I’d rather stay here all day and talk to you,” I tell her in a soft tone, stroking her hair back.
“But I do have something else to do on the way. Otherwise, I’d take you with me no matter what your Dad says.”
“What do you have to do?” May asks. Her eyes, wide and innocent, like the rest of her.
I smile before clamping my mouth shut and shaking my head.
“That would be telling,” I caution her playfully. “I told you already, I have a surprise. But it has to wait until tonight. And I have to go do something first. But it’ll only take a half hour or so.”
“Thiswasn’t your surprise?” she asks me, making me groan loudly when she runs the flat of her hand up my still stiff shaft.