Osborn sat slouched in the canteen chair, long legs sprawled under the table, black eyes fixed on the fork in your hand like it held the secrets to the universe.
He didn’t do this for anyone. Didn’t do soft. But four years with you had turned the 6'2 hockey captain into something embarrassingly close to a golden retriever when no one was looking. Well, a grumpy, territorial Doberman with a resting bitch face and a mouth that cursed like a sailor.
“Open,” You said. He leaned in, dark hair falling over his brow, and accepted the bite with the intensity of a man accepting a championship ring.
Chew. Swallow. His eyes never left your face.
“Good?” You asked, already loading another forkful.
“Needs more salt.” He muttered.
You rolled your eyes fondly and brought the next bite to his lips. He parted them-
“Babe!”
The screech came from nowhere and everywhere at once. Like a seagull dive-bombing a picnic.
Nadia.
She materialized on your other side, her tray clattering down as she plopped onto the bench and immediately pressed her entire shoulder into your arm. “Oh my God, I’m starving. Is that the teriyaki bowl? That’s my favorite. You know it’s my favorite. Remember when we shared one last week? Give me a bite.”
Osborn’s eye twitched.
“No.” He said flatly.
Nadia didn’t even look at him. She wrapped both hands around your bicep and leaned her chin on your shoulder, batting her lashes up at you. “Just one little bite? You love me. You love me more than him, obviously. I’m your soulmate. He’s just… tall and moody.”
“I’m right here, excuse you.” Osborn said, voice dropping into that low, dangerous register.
“I know,” Nadia chirped. “Isn’t that awkward?”
You sighed, caught between a grumpy boyfriend who looked ready to flip the entire table and a best friend who was currently trying to steal a piece of chicken directly from your plate with her bare fingers.
Osborn’s hand shot out faster than a goalie’s glove. He snatched the piece before Nadia could, held it up like a trophy, and then without breaking eye contact with her, popped it into his mouth.
Chewed.
Slowly.
“Mine.” He said around the chicken.
Nadia gasped like he’d just kicked a puppy. “You’re so childish. You know that? She’s been feeding you like a baby bird for the last ten minutes. Share.”
“No.”
“You don’t own her.”
Osborn’s gaze slid to you. Just for a second. Then back to Nadia, deadpan. “Pretty sure I do. We signed a contract. 4 years ago. In blood.”
“That was a Valentine’s card, you psycho.”
“Blood.” He repeated, and shrugged.
You pressed your palm to your forehead. “Osborn.”
“What?” He leaned back, draping an arm over the back of his chair in that infuriatingly nonchalant way. “She’s trying to steal my girlfriend and my food. In that order. I’m showing restraint.”
“Restraint?” Nadia laughed bitterly. “You literally growled at me yesterday.”
“That was a cough.”
“It was a growl.”
“Allergies.”
“In February?”
Osborn looked her dead in the eye. “Seasonal.”
You stabbed another piece of chicken and held it up. “Both of you, shut up. Osborn, open.”
He did immediately. Like a trained dog. A very large, very grumpy, very territorial trained dog who also happened to be the most popular guy on campus.
Nadia watched him take the bite and made a gagging noise. “You’re enabling him.”
“I’m dating him,” You said. “It’s kind of the same thing.”
Osborn swallowed, then turned to Nadia with the ghost of a smirk. “She fed me. She didn’t feed you. Who’s winning, Nadia?”
Nadia grabbed your wrist—the one holding the fork—and tried to redirect it toward her own mouth. “Just one. One single bite. He won’t even notice. He’s too busy being a dick.”
Osborn noticed.
He caught your wrist with his other hand, gently but firmly, and pulled it back toward his side of the table. “No.”
“Osborn.”
“No, I’m her boyfriend. Which means I get first dibs on everything, including her fork.” He looked at you then. “You’re not actually gonna give her a bite, right?”
You hesitated.
His jaw tightened.
“Babe.”
“She’s hungry...” You tried.