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Liv
Fiveweekslater,I’minthekitchenmakingpancakesforeveryone.LukeandIhadsomeepiclovemakinglastnight.Mybodystillhumswithhappiness.Dylanisasleeponthecouch,therestoftheguysinthegym.
Scotty has disappeared, much to everyone’s frustration. The men with him were nothing more than hired thugs. They didn’t have any useful information. I try to keep busy so I don’t stew in the what-ifs.
I have my headphones in since Dylan is taking a nap. He and I have formed quite the friendship over the past several weeks. Garrett too. Dylan even reminds me of John sometimes. They don’t look alike, but they have the same dry humor and he picks on me like John would. It makes me miss my brother even more. We’ve talked on the phone, but it’s not the same.
I shimmy my hips to Dua Lipa and flip the pancakes, slamming them over to the beat. My super fashionable outfit consists of fuzzy blue LA socks, leggings, and one of Luke’s tank tops. I had to tie it at the bottom since it was so big, but he says it looked better on me anyway.
I twirl and stop when I see Dylan watching me, his hands tucked into his armpits with fake annoyance on his face.
“What?” I ask, after taking out an earbud.
“You’re a terrible dancer.”
I turn to the pancakes, still bouncing to the beat in my other ear. “Never said I was a good one. Jokes on you.” I over enunciate the last part as I sass him with a head wiggle.
His lips flatten and he takes the loose earbud from me and pops it in his ear. Ava Max’sKings & Queensplays and his signature smirk appears. The spatula clangs onto the counter as he yanks me by the hand to the open space behind the couch.
“Let me show you how it’s done, Princess.” His condescending insult from when we met is now a term of endearment. I have to admit, it’s grown on me.
He moves his feet with quick side steps and motions for me to copy him. He swings his arms up and over, then repeats in the opposite direction. Once I have that down, he spins and I try to copy him. We turn around each other and I smile so big my cheeks hurt. I keep messing up because I’m laughing so hard so he goes freestyle and busts out some fancy moves.
He steps a few feet away and does a damn back flip. Before I can respond with the sass I want to, he grabs my hand and spins me. He tries to dip me but my sock covered foot slides on the hardwood and I fall to my ass, dragging him down with me. Twisting at the last second, he lands next to me with a thud. He assesses me, his forehead creased with concern, but smiles and relaxes when I burst into laughter.
“See, fucking terrible." He chuckles and shakes his head. Yep, things have changed around here.
“Whatever they’re on, I want some,” Garrett says.
The guys file in from the garage. Luke smiles when he takes us in and holds his hand out to me. I take it and he helps me to my feet as I wipe tears from my eyes. He leaves Dylan to fend for himself.
“What are you guys doing?”
“I was being schooled in the art of dance. I failed.”
“Miserably,” Dylan adds with a smirk. Jerk.
“Where did you learn all that?” I ask.
He shrugs, and his head snaps towards the kitchen and he bolts to the stove.
An alarm blares and we smell smoke. “Smoke detected in the kitchen. Fire sequence activation in ten, nine, eight…” Nova keeps counting down and Luke curses.
“Nova. Recall fire sequence,” he yells.
Nova cuts off her counting at four. “Fire sequence deactivated.”
Luke sighs and slumps against the counter as Jordy turns off the stove. He waves a towel by the smoke detector, and Dylan dumps the burned pancake in the sink and turns on the water.
“You’re also a terrible cook.” Dylan grins at me.
“That was your fault!”
He laughs and starts cleaning the pan.
“That was my last one. Eat up fellas,” I point to the mountain of pancakes on the counter. They all grab plates and dig in like a pack of wolves.
“I have to disagree with Dylan. You’re an excellent chef, Liv,” Garrett says, squeezing my shoulder.
