Page 18 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

“It is, and I know that because I’ve bought every ingredient that lives in your kitchen.” Before me, Brinley’s kitchen had garlic salt instead of fresh garlic, margarine instead of butter, and frozen dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets instead of actual chicken. Call me a snob, but I insisted on some upgrades.

Gathering what’s left of my strength, I pick up the bags to carry them to said kitchen. Thankfully, Brinley hasn’t found a reason to pile stuff on the counters yet, so I have plenty of space.

“You act like I don’t know how to feed myself,” Brinley mutters.

“The only reason you ever go to the grocery store is to stock up on more frozen dinners, Brinley ba—” I cut myself off when I see Eden lingering in the doorway. Am I allowed to use my usual nickname for Brinley in front of her? Normally, I’d only use it if we were alone.

“I cooked once,” she says, indignant.

“You set off the smoke alarm twice and had to call the fire department once.”

She crosses her arms. “Well, I’m too busy running a business to cook.”

“Didn’t you spend half the day reading a vampire romance under the counter?” Eden asks.

“It’s called research. I have to read the new books so I know what customers to recommend them to. Small businesses rely on personal connections.”

“It’s called, you have time to make a sandwich for lunch,” I remind her. “Something with actual vitamins that’s not full of preservatives and sodium.”

“Why would I want that? Sodium rules.” Brinley pokes me in the side. “How can I help?”

“No,” I say flatly.

“Come on! Give me something to chop. I can handle it.”

“I can’t. The last time I let you handle a knife, you almost cut your pinky off.”

“I’ll be careful,” she promises.

“You always say that, then you get excited and try to talk with your hands.” I hand her a box of mushrooms. “How about you wash these instead?”

“And if I do a good job, I can chop them?”

“Nope, but I’ll give you a kiss and a sticker.”

Eden shifts, glancing at the ground. “I guess I’ll leave you guys to it.”

“We have enough for three, don’t we?” Brinley eyes me. She knows there will be plenty of food. I like to leave her a few days worth of leftovers, if only so I can get her to eat something other than frozen Amy’s burritos. She’s giving me a chance to get some space from Eden.

It’s tempting to pretend I’m running short on mushrooms. Having Eden around isn’t bad, but it’s a little weird. Brinley and I are always pretending that we’re nothing to each other. It’s like I have to unlearn the choreography we’ve spent years mastering. After the Peppermint blowup, it might be nice to spend the night alone with my not-girlfriend.

Except Eden lives here now. She’s going to be a part of my life, until she either gives up on Toronto or gets a job and moves out. I know Brinley wants us to get along.

“Take a seat,” I tell Eden brightly. “We’ve got plenty of food. Or we will, when I’m done cooking.”

“Really, I was craving a peanut butter and banana sandwich,” Eden says. “But I guess I can hang out for a bit while you cook?”

“Perfect,” Brinley chirps as she rinses the mushrooms. “Beau can even make your sandwich for you.”

“No.” Eden’s voice comes out sharply. “I don’t need Beau to do anything for me.”

I blink, surprised. “I don’t mind.”

Eden’s eyes meet mine, and there’s a cool edge to her gaze. Not quite a glare, but suspicious. “Maybe you should focus on giving Brinley what she needs.”

Ah. Eden’s whole attitude comes into sharp focus. She doesn’t totally trust me with Brinley. And honestly…I get it. Brinley deserves more than a secret relationship, more than stolen moments when no one’s looking. She deserves a boyfriend who’s allowed to tell the world that she exists. It stings, knowing Eden resents me for the pathetic ghost of a relationship I’ve been able to give Brinley.

Or maybe it’s more than that.