They ate mostly in silence, save for the occasional clink of forks against plates and Lake muttering under his breath about Max actually being able to cook. By the time they were done, both plates were scraped clean.
Lake leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach. “Alright. I’ll give it to you. That was good.”
Max smirked. “Told you.”
Lake stood, gathering the plates. “I’ll clean up.”
Max shot up immediately. “No, you won’t.”
Lake raised a brow. “Why not?”
“You’re a guest.”
“I helped cook.”
“You complained the entire time.”
“Still counts.”
Max crossed the kitchen and took the plates from him. “Sit down.”
Lake didn’t move. “Max, I can wash dishes. I’m not going to break your expensive sink or something.”
Max dumped the dishes in the sink. “You don't look like someone that can do anything.”
“That's not true.”
“I swear. You look so soft.”
Lake rolled his eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”
"I know."
"Let me.."
Max turned, arms folded. “And you’re terrible at relaxing. Let me do this.”
Lake
