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16
Trey
More clanking and clunking in the kitchen.
Christ.
This guy had the munchies more than anyone I’d ever known.
I grudgingly rolled out of Lexi’s bed. Lexi’s comfortable as fuck, bed.
The only thing missing was her soft, sweet body.
I threw on a T-shirt and shorts and wandered up the stairs.
I yawned and turned the corner to—a motherfucking mess.
“Christ, what the fuck did you do?” I yelled at the retired, pro-hockey player who was currently in the kitchen adding to the freaking disaster of dishes and food all over the counters.
And the floor.
“Making some supper. Good morning, sleepin’ beauty.” He coughed and stirred something on the stove.
Supper?
I turned to the microwave and saw that it was indeed after six o’clock.
I’d gone back to bed after Lexi had left at ‘o-dark-thirty.’ I needed more sleep.
I remembered getting up a few hours later and asking Wes if he wanted anything to eat.
He’d been passed out on the couch, watching true crime documentaries.
I’d made us some toast and cereal, then headed right back to bed.
I had no recollection of getting up anytime after that, though.
Shit, I had some cleaning to do before Lexi called.
I walked into the kitchen to see Wes intent on the soup pot in front of him.
“What are you making?” I glanced into the silver pot to see a red liquid.
“Jello.”
“Jello?”
“Yeah, Jello. You’ve never made Jello before?”
I shook my head and picked up one of the three small boxes on the counter.
Wes shrugged and poured the red liquid into a bowl. “You guys have kids, you’re gonna need to learn.”
Kids.
With Lexi.
This morning, when she’d mentioned her staying home with our kids while I was out galivanting—I knew she was trying to make a point.
