“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming on.”
I sigh, my chest feeling heavy with guilt and confusion. “But I’ve been falling in love with Malachi since the moment I met him, if I’m being honest with myself. The feelings I once had for Cade don’t even compare to what I feel for Malachi now.”
I feel almost guilty for saying it out loud, like I’m betraying something sacred.
“Don’t feel bad for not reciprocating Cade’s feelings,” Aurora says, like she can read my mind. “He’s a big boy, and like you said, it’s been years. You two are different people now.” Her tone becomes more playful. “Besides, you have that hot boss man wrapped around your finger.”
She dissolves into giggles, and I swat blindly at her, hitting her shoulder, I think.
“Aurora, my God!” I laugh despite myself, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep in my chest. It feels incredible to laugh and have girl talk—something I haven’t experienced in far too long. Something I didn’t realize I was starving for.
“Tomorrow at breakfast, I’m going to tell Malachi about everything. The four of us need to work together, especially after what happened tonight. I know we can trust him.”
“You’re assuming we’ll even have breakfast. Have you looked inside Cade’s fridge?” Aurora jokes but then clears her throat. “You’re right, Katja. If you feel strongly about Malachi and think he can be trusted, then I’ll support your decision. Cade will deal. Don’t worry about him.”
My stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly, and I’m suddenly starving thinking about breakfast. I try to remember the last time I ate anything substantial. We were about to make dinner when all hell broke loose earlier tonight.
“Were you serious about Cade’s fridge?” I ask, completely fixated on food now.
“No. Well, kind of. He doesn’t have a lot of options, but he still has better food than I ever had in the South. The other day, I had some protein wafers for breakfast, and I don’t recommend them. Chalky and synthetic. Like vanilla-flavored dirt.” She giggles at the memory.
“The apple flavor is marginally better, but I know what you mean,” I say, grimacing.
“After lots of complaining, Cade finally got some good stuff. He has a jug of synthetic eggs, but they actually taste really good. We can make omelets with toast. He even has jam.” Her voice brightens.
My mouth waters. “Sounds perfect.”
I turn onto my side as Mish hops up onto the bed, doing a quick zoomie session over both of us before curling up right against my chest. Her ghostly warmth settles into that familiar spot she’s claimed as hers for years.
As if reading my mind, Aurora says quietly, “Do you still see your dead dog?”
I look down at Mish’s translucent form and close my eyes, feeling that bittersweet ache that always comes when I talk about her. “Yeah, I still see Mischka. She’s here now, cuddling me, still faithful after all these years.”
“That makes my heart happy. After everything you’ve been through, at least you’ve always had your girl watching over you.”
“He might be even cuterwhen he’s asleep,” Aurora whispers as we tiptoe past Malachi passed out on the couch. We decided to make breakfast for everyone before they wake up, a small peace offering after the shitstorm of a night.
“Shhh.” I peek at him anyway, my heart doing that familiar flutter. He looks peaceful when he sleeps, the normally hard lines of his face softened into something almost innocent looking. His brown hair is tousled across his forehead, and one arm hangs loosely off the edge of the couch.
Aurora starts brewing coffee—lab-grown coffee substitute, but it tastes remarkably close to the real thing. I grab the big carton of Goldenscram from the fridge and pour the yellow mixture into a pan, moving it around with a spatula to make enough scrambled eggs for all of us.
As I slide the carton back into the fridge, I catch sight of the label and can’t help but smirk. There’s a cartoon picture of a ridiculously happy chicken giving an enthusiastic thumbs-up. The slogan in cheerful yellow letters reads,Luxury you don’t have to hatch!
The absurdity of it makes me shake my head as I push it back onto the shelf.
Cade emerges from down the hall, scratching the top of his messy hair and yawning, but thankfully fully clothed this time. He’s wearing a simple gray T-shirt and dark jeans, looking slightly more put together than he did last night despite clearly having rolled out of bed.
“Make yourself useful and set the table,” Aurora says, swatting Cade away as he tries to grab a handful of fluffy eggs straight from the pan.
His lips pull back in that guilty, caught-red-handed grin that makes me laugh despite myself. “I don’t remember her being this bossy,” I tease.
Aurora winks at me, handing Cade a stack of plates and forks with mock authority.
“These are ready. You got the toast?” I ask her.
“Yeah, we’ll set everything on the table. Go wake up your man.”
Something about the way she says it makes me cringe. It feels awkward with Cade right here, though I can’t pinpoint exactly why.
