Lyra jumped in surprise at the sharpness of Dannielle’s reaction. Xander’s comebacks weren’t unexpected, but her? Shit. And that order she’d given was ice cold, carving out her will like a glacier.
Looking up at Avery, she tried to work out if he was as rattled as she was – Dannielle was his mom, after all. But he just seemed irritated, the change in him so noticeable from the guy who’d been hiding a secret smile for her earlier, after each time his mom told him off.
“God yeah,” she agreed, shooting back the last of her wine and shoving herself back from the table. “Your mom full on punched the table! Does she do that a lot? You were good though,” she added, for balance, as she ran her hands over her hair, looking at the door where they’d all left and half wanting to follow them to make them listen. Only half, though – and the half that wanted to stick with Avery was stronger.
Was everyone seriously just leaving the table like this, though? Was it Joanne’s job to clear up all the dishes after cooking the whole meal? Fuck all of this, thought Lyra, stacking her plate on top of Avery’s. “‘You don’t represent people, you exploit them’. Damn right. Pass me that plate?”