Page 20 of My Three Hometown Alphas

Lyla’s squeal is the all the confirmation I need that Avery will be having dinner with us. And distracting me with the sexiness that I need to become blind to if I’m going to survive this summer without doing something colossally stupid.

“Sorry, if you were looking forward to getting out of here,” I tell Avery while she’s helping me cut up the frozen pizzas that we quickly cooked for dinner.

She shrugs her shoulder that’s closest to me. “It isn’t that much of a hardship,” she says, smiling like her words might mean something else, but I don’t know what.

We both grab the cutting boards loaded with pizzas and carry them to the table.

“Alright, eat up,” I tell everyone.

We’re pretty quiet while we all dish up our plates with pizza and salad.

“Ranch or Italian?” Owen asks Lyla, holding up the two bottles.

She makes a pained face. “I’m not going to have any salad,” she whines.

Yeah, not happening.

Owen gives her a look, conveying my thoughts without the use of words.

Avery bumps her elbow against Lyla’s arm. “I’m eating salad. See?” She stabs her fork into a few leafy green pieces, shoving them in her mouth. She wiggles her eyebrows up and down as she chews.

Lyla fights to keep her scowl in place. “Fine,” she groans. “Ranch, I guess.”

While Lyla gingerly spoons salad onto the corner of her plate, I lock eyes with Avery.

“Thank you,” I mouth.

She nods with a small smile.

Miles speaks up from my right. “Okay. Time for high-low.”

Avery’s face screws up in confusion. “What’s high-low?”

“Every night while we’re eating dinner, we all say the highest or best part of our day. We don’t always say the low parts, but if something’s bothering you then we talk about that, too,” Miles explains.

“Gotcha,” Avery says, picking up a slice of pizza to take a bite.

Miles turns to look at our middle brother. “You have to go first, otherwise you always find a way to sneak off before it’s your turn.”

Owen gives him a look that’s dripping with irritation, but then his eyes lock on Avery and soften ever so slightly. “This,” he says, motioning around the table.

“Pizza?” Lyla asks, giggling.

I don’t know why she’s laughing. I remember many, many times when she said a certain food she ate was the best part of her day.

“No.” Owen pauses for a second before continuing. “People.”

After he says the word, his gaze is locked on Avery. She doesn’t notice, but she freezes at his admission with her eyes on her plate.

“Oh, cool,” Lyla says. “Mine was making cupcakes and pizza.”

See? This kid, always with the food.

“What about you, Avery?” Lyla asks.

She thinks for a minute, running her finger around the rim of her water glass. “Having a family dinner.” She swallows, struggling to finish what she wanted to say. “I didn’t know if I was ever going to have this again.”

My heart clenches painfully in my chest.