The spatula slips from my fingers, clanging on the counter. “Sorry,” I mutter, mostly to myself, before nabbing it back up to turn over the round sausage patties in the skillet on the stove.
“They’ll be here around noon,” Milo answers as he walks back over to the island and takes a seat next to Dante.
My eyes leap to the digital clock on the microwave—that’s only in a few hours. I still need to shower and figure out what to wear. I take a calming breath, blowing it out unnecessarily slow. I clear my throat, hoping all my doubts and insecurities won’t be obvious. “Are we coming back tonight?”
“That was the plan, but I’m not sure now. What do you think?” I expect to hear Dante answer, but he doesn’t. I turn to face Milo, realizing that his question is directed at me.
“Uh…” I puff out my cheeks. “Should we ask the guys?” I don’t know the right answer. I know Milo probably wants to see his family, but would we all be able to stay together like we have been? The thought of spending the night alone in a strange hotel room has me wringing my hands. Dante tilts his head, his eyes running over me.
“We’ll ask them when they get up,” Milo confirms. I turn back to face the pans on the stove. The rest of the sausage is just about ready, so I pour the eggs into the skillet and begin slowly stirring them with the silicone spatula.
It’s like the smell of food wakes the others. Ollie comes shuffling into the kitchen, his hair hanging around his shoulders and low-slung, flannel pajama pants hanging off his hips. Long, lean lines of muscles rope up his torso. He doesn’t have the slab of abdominals that Ares has, but his chest and stomach are no less appealing because of it. His eyes are a little puffy with sleep, like he didn’t even really wake up before coming out. He looks positively adorable.
Ares steps up behind him, his dark hair made darker because it’s still wet. He’s dressed in a fitted black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his tanned forearms. His tawny brown eyes search the room until they land on mine. Heat rises in my cheeks for no other reason than he looked at me. I focus my gaze back on breakfast, stirring the eggs slowly as they begin to congeal.
“You’re making food?” Ollie comes over and he places his chin on my shoulder, his hands going to either side of my waist. I nod, biting my lip. The air is suddenly thicker; all four of them are here, and I’m a little overwhelmed.
We haven’t had much time to be all alone together. In the evening, after work, when we’re all in the room it’s different. It’s like I’ve come to know what to expect, but this is somewhat new. There’s a new dynamic happening, one where we don’t always have to hide, and the guys are starting to change. I can feel it in the way they look at me. Ollie has always been free with his affections, and since yesterday I’ve felt a closeness to Dante that wasn’t there before. And I can’t even think about Ares without flames licking my insides.
I swat Ollie's hand with my spatula as he reaches for a sausage patty on a paper towel lined dish. “Hey!” He smirks and brings the corner of his knuckle to his lips with a grin. He sucks the side of his finger into his mouth and pouts. I can’t pull my gaze away. Ollie drags his knuckle over his mouth, tugging his lip down as he does. Boys’ lips have no right being that full and pouty, and my teeth sink into my lower lip as I force myself to pay attention to the hardening eggs in the pan.
“Can someone grab plates?” My voice comes out raspier than usual. I let my eyes close, pretending I didn’t just sound like I was trying out for a phone sex operator position. Ollie steps away from me, his hands lingering as he does so.
As soon as he’s gone, Ares invades my space. I don’t know how he can make himself so much more intrusive than Ollie, but he manages it with ease. He slinks up behind me, and his solid frame hovers just millimeters from mine. Ares’s hands are much more possessive, and he wraps them over my shoulders, coming around to the front of my neck. When his thumb brushes along a tender spot, I remember the love bites he left me last night. He hasn’t spoken yet, but my body sinks into his. All thoughts of the others seeing us falls away. A feeling of contentment I didn’t know I was missing settles over me. “Mornin’,” he breathes, running his hand up the column of my throat, causing my head to fall back against his chest. Ares kisses my temple, and then the corner my mouth. I hum my response.
The sound of plates hitting the granite counter jolts me, and I open my eyes, unaware I’d even closed them. I slide the pan over to a burner that isn’t hot to stop the cooking process. I know the moment I turn around my whole face will be beet red, even my ears are hot.
Taking a step away from Ares, I busy myself getting the rest of the sausage from the pan. Thankfully, the oven beeps moments later, and I bend down to retrieve the cookie sheet filled with canned biscuits. I had planned to make a quick white gravy, but I’m way too flustered, and my hands are shaking as I place the pan on top of the wooden trivet.
Taking a few steps back, I look over the simple breakfast, and a sense of accomplishment settles over me. I did this, not because I had to, but because I could, and I wanted to. I spin on my heel, my lip pinched between my teeth. “Food’s ready,” I announce a little shyly.
Unsurprisingly, Dante is the first to grab a plate and get in the line that is forming. He only adds two pieces of sausage and one biscuit, and I frown when he scoops up a small portion of the eggs. Does he not like breakfast food? There’s not much Dante turns down, but I haven’t really seen him eat much in the morning. We’re all usually rushing out the door for school.
Walking over he extends the plate to me, his eyes a little wide. I take the dish as my mouth falls open—he made this for me? He doesn’t say anything, just grins down at me before turning back to grab another plate.
They scrape the egg pan empty, and not a morsel of sausage remains. I should have made double. I’m not used to cooking for so many, especially since my mom barely ate enough to stay alive. The kitchen remains fairly quiet as we eat, and Mia’s presence in the doorway a few minutes into the meal forces some light conversation.
After she arrives, I keep my eyes on my plate for the most part, still unsure how I should feel about her. My head tells me I should feel sorry for her, I know she has feelings for Ares—hell, maybe even for all of them—but the other part of me, it may be my heart or something else, tells me to keep her away from what’s mine.
I all but growl when she leans her elbow on the island next to Dante. Everyone at the island looks over at me, and I can’t even pretend it wasn’t me. Dante, for his part, gets a small satisfied grin on his lips, and he looks down at his plate then back up at me. Mia looks around like she can’t believe no one is going to say anything, her pretty face in a deep frown.
I lower my head. I don’t know what it is about Dante that makes me so crazy. I don’t think I would have acted the same if she were next to Milo, or even Ares for that matter. There’s something about him that brings out a different side of me, and I’m not sure I understand yet. “Sorry,” I mouth the words to him so no one else will hear. He shrugs his shoulder while still sporting the grin.
Milo leans over, looking past Mia and Dante, to me and Ares on my other side. “Are we staying in Columbia tonight, or coming back here?”