Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Jeremy noted the clock as he stole one of the stools and asked, “Should you check on Andrew? He’s been gone a while.”
Laila perked up. “Oh, is he here?”
“Ravens do not travel alone,” Jean said.
“Can you point at the Raven in the room?” Cat asked without looking up from her mixer.
“He likely won’t come back until I tell him we’re on the way to the hotel,” Kevin said. “It’s better that way.”
Laila sighed in disappointment. “I’d love to talk to him one day. He’s very good.”
“He will be Court,” Jean said.
“So will you,” Kevin said.
Such an unhesitating endorsement from Kevin Day would have knocked anyone else off their feet, but Jean’s expression went smooth as stone. Jeremy chipped in with a quick, “If you want to be.”
“I am perfect Court,” Jean said, inflectionless and quiet. “I will play where I am signed.”
Cat picked up on the dip in Jean’s mood immediately. “Kevin! Help us with the arepas. Jean will show you how.” She nudged him with her elbow. When Jean scowled silent refusal, she jabbed him again and said, “Make the Queen roll up his sleeves, it’ll be good for him. Nothing’s better than a meal you’ve had a hand in.”
“I can also—” Jeremy started.
“Touch nothing,” Cat said, brandishing her knife at him.
Kevin arched a brow at him, but Jeremy sliced a hand across his neck in a desperate Let’s just forget it. The mischievous look on Cat’s face said she was two seconds from listing off his various disasters, but then Jean dragged his bowl to where Kevin could reach it. Jeremy watched as Jean showed Kevin how to shape the arepa dough around slices of fresh mozzarella. Kevin’s first attempt was messy but serviceable, but Jean took it away from him to press it into a cleaner shape. Kevin watched him work with a distant gaze.
“When did you learn how to cook?” he asked.
“Cat is teaching me,” Jean said. He could have left it at that, but after a beat, he admitted, “I like it. It makes everything else go away for a while.”
He’d never hesitated to join Cat in the kitchen, but this was the first time he’d offered such an unguarded opinion of it. The smile that curved Cat’s lips was gentle; the look Laila sent Jean was fond. Kevin studied Jean like he wasn’t quite sure who he was looking at: not with any trepidation, but quietly reevaluating a man he’d known for so many years. For a moment Jeremy felt the history between them and was dizzy; in another he was keenly aware there was too much there for him to ever understand.
Kevin offered Jean a second arepa, waited for Jean to reach for it, and said, “I’m glad.”
Jean went still with his fingers on the dough. His jaw worked for a moment as he weighed his possible responses. In the end he said nothing, but when he finally curled his fingers around the little flatbread he pressed his knuckles into Kevin’s palm. Maybe it was optimistic, but Jeremy interpreted it as a silent thank you.
Maybe not, or maybe that was as vulnerable as Jean felt like being tonight, because Jean turned to Jeremy a few moments later. “He’s underfoot. Take him away and show him your most recent match against Arizona.”
“I don’t think Kevin wants—” Laila started.
Kevin didn’t even hear her. “It was a phenomenal game,” he said, eyes alight.
“Maybe he will forgive your fumble,” Jean added, and Jeremy made a face at him.
“Against Faser,” Kevin said. The fact that he knew exactly what play Jean was talking about was equal parts mortifying and fascinating, and Jeremy could only stare at him. Kevin made an annoyed sound and said, “You are his better in every way. You should have slammed him into the wall.”
He had, later that night at the hotel room, but Jeremy didn’t think Kevin needed to hear that. He gamely ignored the I-told-you-so look Jean sent him. “That’s the trouble with playing opponents you’re familiar with. They know how best to distract you.”
“A rookie excuse,” Kevin said derisively.
“We can’t all be perfect,” Jeremy said with a smile.
Kevin shrugged that off. “You are close enough to count.”
Jeremy had all of one second to revel in that praise before Jean sent Kevin a sullen look and said, “Jeremy is studying for law school.”
Kevin’s jaw dropped. “No.”
He rounded on Jeremy, and Jeremy barely beat him to the punch. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not get into it tonight. I’m not asking,” he added when Kevin wasn’t so easily deterred. Kevin continued to stare at him like Jeremy had personally betrayed him, but he wisely kept his peace. Satisfied, Jeremy changed the subject with, “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
At length Kevin said, “To somehow present Jean as someone to root for. A thankless task,” he said, and ignored the withering look Jean flicked him. “So long as we stick to the script, everything will be fine.”