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“Did you turn them already, Rupe?”
“Nope. Didn’t need it. Does he need anything?”
“Water, for right now. I’d like to get him to eat, too, if possible.”
“You think you made enough food?”
I cleared my throat. “Dani, you said Rupert cooked.”
She peered over shoulder. “He did.”
John snickered. “He cooked the eggs. Dani threw together everything else.”
She waved the spatula around. “So I cooked up some bacon and pancakes. Sue me.”
Rupert nodded. “And toast.”
John put his hand on my shoulder. “I made the coffee, though. Don’t worry.”
I nodded. “Good. Rupert’s coffee is shit.”
Dani giggled as Rupert tossed me a glare, and the entire scene made me smile. Like a goofy little schoolgirl. Dani, standing at the stove throwing down a breakfast that made my stomach growl in hunger. My brother, sitting next to me, looking as spry as ever. My best friend, hanging out with us. A house full of people who cared about one another.
In another life, maybe, I would’ve actually thought I deserved something like this.
“So! How you feeling, champ?”
Rupert’s voice made me wince. “I’m good. Though you can bring your voice down a bit.”
Dani giggled. “He’s not yelling, Max.”
I pointed. “You, too. In fact, everyone whisper. That’ll do just fine.”
John leaned against my ear. “Like this?”
I pulled away from him. “You spit on me, you fucker.”
Dani turned the bacon. “Settle down, you two. The food’s almost ready.”
Rupert shook his head. “I swear, you two are like kids.”
Dani snickered. “Three, you mean.”
And the look she gave ‘Rupe’ made me chuckle until my stomach protested the movement.
I watched as Dani filled the kitchen table with food. With drinks. With ice water and coffee and orange juice. Since when the hell did we have orange juice? Rupert passed out silverware and John got up to get the syrup. The butter. The salt and pepper. We all sat down to a wonderful meal, but even though I needed the food and the water, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Off Dani.
Off this incredible young woman that had come into my life.
“So, John? What do you think? As the resident breakfast maker, of course,” Dani said.
I watched John take a bite of bacon and eggs before practically inhaling a pancake in one breath. All he could do was hold up a thumb and nod his head before he got back to devouring his plate. That was the most praise I’d ever seen him give anyone on their cooking. Because John was incredibly picky about how his food was cooked.
Could this girl get any better?
“Max?”
