Chapter 9: Dinner fit for a King

Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t! I thought. What in the actual hell am I thinking!? Now what? This is awkward. Okay, Andy, what would Marcia do?

First, she would feed him… damn, it was already almost noon! He had to be starving!

Second, she would keep him busy… just like she had done for me.

“Are you hungry?” I asked Luke.

“Andy, you don’t need to look after me,” he said kindly. “And I’m honestly more tired than anything.”

“Understandably!” I agreed, questioning myself for staying all the more. “You should go and lie down in your room.”

“No, the couch is fine,” he said.

“Luke, you’re like eight feet tall. That couch cannot be comfortable for you. It’s no wonder you’re exhausted.”

“Eight feet?” he asked with an almost smile and raised an eyebrow.

“I won’t take no for an answer,” I urged, happy to have nearly roused any amount of smile out of him.

“Yeah, I’m learning that about you,” he replied.

He wiped both of his palms across his face.