Rowdy || 18+ || RH

Chapter 21

Emersyn

Another Saturday, another roommate dinner and game night. No matter what the guys have going on, they all make sure to make it back in time for this. And when one can't make it, like Marx the other weekend, they didn't hesitate to bring game night to him.

Cruz is manning the stove while Locke is at the counter, chopping veggies and bobbing his head to a beat only he can hear.

I tie my hair into a messy bun and roll up my sleeves. "Hey, guys! Need any help?"

"Ah, Em! Perfect timing. Wanna help me with the guacamole?" Locke grins, holding up a ripe avocado like it's a trophy.

"Sure thing." I take the avocado from him and grab a bowl from the cupboard. As I start scooping out the soft green flesh, I glance at Cruz. "So, how was the trip to the family farm? How's everyone?"

Cruz looks up from his chili and smiles. "It was good, really good. There's something grounding about being back there, you know?"

"Grounding, huh? 'Cause it's a farm?" Locke chimes in, snickering.

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Seriously though, tell me more."

Cruz stirs the pot a bit, looking almost wistful. "It's peaceful, tranquil even. It was nice seeing my mom and my younger siblings. Being there just gives me so much peace."

"I didn't know you had siblings."

Locke beats Cruz to the punch, "Yep, Cruz is the eldest of four. He's like the wise old tree in a forest of saplings."

"Locke, stop embarrassing me," Cruz rolls his eyes, but you can see he's amused. "But yeah, I've got two sisters and a brother. They're all a handful but I wouldn't trade them for anything."

"That sounds amazing. I only have my older brother, Thoreau, but we're pretty close," I say, feeling a sense of kinship with Cruz. I finish up with the avocado and turn my attention back to the task at hand. "This guacamole needs a little kick. You have any jalapeños?"

"Should be in the fridge, next to Marx's kombucha science experiment," Locke says.

I head to the fridge, dodging Fowler, who dashes into the kitchen, swiping a carrot stick and scampering out like he's just committed a heist.

After adding the diced jalapeño to the guacamole, I take a moment to appreciate the energy in the room. The atmosphere feels charged yet comfortable, like a well-worn book you never tire of reading.

With dinner ready, we gather around the coffee table. It looks like it's poker night. Cards are shuffled, chips are distributed, and the aroma of chili and freshly-made guacamole fills the air.

Fowler takes the seat beside me, shuffling the cards with practiced ease. "Alright, who's ready to lose their hard-earned chips?"

A few rounds in, Locke, ever the chatterbox, turns to me. "Hey Em, so how'd it go getting your stuff back from Lyle's place? Marx told us he was your bodyguard for the day."

I pause, feeling the weight of the question. I look at Marx; his eyes meet mine, subtly encouraging. "It went... smoother than expected. Mostly because Marx was there to keep the peace."

A silence lingers for a moment, filled with unasked questions. Finally, Fowler throws it out there. "Why'd you guys break up, anyway?"

I can't help but wonder if he's asking because they all want to know, or because of what happened between us last night. We haven't actually had time to talk about it.

I hesitate, my fingers fiddling with my cards. I glance at Marx and see his eyes darken, his jaw tightening. He clearly doesn't like the talk of Lyle. I don't blame him, not after the way Lyle treated me in front of him. I wonder if he actually did beat up Lyle, as Lyle claimed to my brother.