Back to You(57)

Lauren turned to look at him; he was so close now, the small trash can being the only thing that separated the two of them. Just as he turned his head to look at her, a loud, grumbling sound filled the space between them, and she raised her eyebrows, glancing down at his stomach.
He laughed softly, pressing his palm to his stomach, and Lauren asked, “Have you eaten anything?”
Michael shook his head. “No, I came right home.”
“You must be starving,” she said, standing from her spot on the floor. “Let me make you something.”
“No, you’ve done enough already,” he said, making a move to stand up, and Lauren held out her hand.
“No, stay with her. I’ll throw something simple together,” she said, walking out of the living room before he could protest further, and she heard him sigh in acquiescence as he leaned back against the couch.
Lauren opened his fridge, and after scanning it for a minute, she pulled out what she’d need to make him a sandwich. When she was finished, she grabbed a bottle of water from the door of the fridge and brought both out to him.
He was still sitting with his back up against the couch, but his head was resting against the cushion and his eyes were closed. She stopped, wondering if he had fallen asleep, but then he rolled his head to the side and opened his eyes.
“Hey,” he said softly, shifting to sit up, and she walked over to him, handing him the plate and the water before she sat back down on the floor in front of Erin’s feet.
“Thank you,” he said as he picked up the sandwich and took an enormous bite, making a contented sound in the back of his throat.
Michael sighed around his mouthful of food, chewing slowly before he swallowed. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until you brought this in here,” he said, taking another bite and putting the plate down between them to open his water. He looked back at Lauren and lifted his brow, motioning toward the sandwich, and she shook her head.
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
He nodded, taking a sip of water and swallowing the bite he had just taken. “Damn, that’s good. What’s in this?”
Lauren laughed. “Whatever was in your fridge. I just used what you had.”
He picked up the sandwich and turned it slowly, his brow furrowed like he was studying an ancient artifact, and then he shruhe corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. , legged before he took another bite. “It never tastes this good when I make one for myself.”
“You’re just hungry. It’s all relative,” she said with a laugh, leaning back against the couch and bringing her eyes to the television.
After a few minutes of silence, broken here and there by the sounds of appreciation Michael uttered as he finished his sandwich, Lauren said, “So, how was your test?”
Michael ran the back of his hand across his mouth, swallowing the sip of water he’d just taken. “It seemed fair,” he said. “I probably did okay.”
Lauren smiled and rolled her eyes. “Which means you aced it.”
He laughed at her annoyance, his expression confused. “Why are you saying that?”
She lazily rolled her head to the side, looking at him. “You always used to do that. You’d always belittle how you thought you did on a test, and you’d end up blowing it out of the water.”
“That,” he said, pointing at her with his bottle of water, “is absolutely not true.”
“Sure it is. The ones you failed, you blew off on purpose. But when you actually cared about a class?” She moved her hand through the air smoothly. “Straight A’s. Just like that.”
He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “Apparently, your memory of me is a little warped.”
Lauren felt her smile drop. “No, I don’t think it is,” she said softly, looking away from him.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him looking at her, although she couldn’t make out his expression. Eventually, he turned his head, slowly spinning the cap back on his water bottle. She heard him take a small breath before he cleared his throat.
“So,” he said tentatively, “do you like living in Bellefonte? Or do you miss home?”
Lauren inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the awkwardness of that last moment between them. “I like it here. I mean, of course I miss home, but I see my parents whenever I want, and I have dinner with Jenn once a month, so,” she said with a shrug.
“Jenn?” Michael said, his brow lifted. “Jenn Powell? You guys are still friends?”
Lauren laughed softly, remembering their tumultuous relationship. “Yes.”
“Holy shit. Jenn Powell,” he said slowly. He shook his head and leaned against the couch. “Is she still the same?”