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“Seriously, Willa. I curse. You curse. We all curse.”
“He needed to blow off some steam, so we used each other as punching bags. No harm, no foul. All good between old friends.”
Willa snorted. “Tell that to your ribs.”
“Coffee refill?” Sailor asked me.
“Sure thing,” I said, pushing my cup toward her. The poor kid still acted like a guest, asking permission to use the fucking washing machine and shit. Didn’t blame her though. It was a weird situation for anyone. She was also really young and it would take her a while to settle in.
“Why are you calling it a guest house when it’s not actually a guest house?” I asked Waverly.
“Because calling it a one-bedroom apartment and shop doesn’t roll off the tongue, and it’s easier to explain to people when you just say you live in the guest house,” Waverly said.
“We’re out of coffee,” Sailor announced.
“There’s another bag in the pantry,” Willa said. “But make sure you mark on the whiteboard that you took one, so we know what to get when we go grocery shopping.”
Sailor nodded.
Waverly moved closer to Willa’s side and said something to her, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. The front door opened without warning and a moment later Savage and Acid tromped into the kitchen.
“Just in time,” Savage said, setting a plastic bag onto the counter.
“Nice shiner.” I smirked.
“She’s a beaut, isn’t she?” Savage grinned back.
“You guys are so effing weird,” Waverly huffed. “Who beats each other up and then acts like nothing happened?”
Savage looked at her and then at me. “We do. That’s just how we roll. Willa, babe, is that first stack for me?”
“You’re at the end of the line,” she quipped. “I’ll feed Acid before I feed you, if I choose to feed you at all.”
“Just coffee for me, thanks,” Acid said. “But your pot is empty.”
Sailor popped out of the pantry holding a massive bag of coffee and came to a halt. Her gaze locked on Acid’s.
“Morning, Blondie,” he said to her.
Her cheeks flamed with color. “What are you doing here?”
“Self-defense lessons, remember?” he asked.
“Oh.” She swallowed, and as if suddenly remembering why she’d gone into the pantry in the first place, she finally headed to the coffee pot.
“First batch is done,” Willa said. “Waverly, take this to Duke, please. And set the table, yeah?”
“On it,” Waverly said as she brought me the plate, butter, and syrup. She buzzed around the kitchen getting napkins and utensils.
“Hey, asshole, why don’t you make yourself useful and help her,” I said to Savage.
“Don’t you dare,” Willa warned. “Sit. Let me take care of you.”
Savage grinned. “I knew you’d cave.” He wrapped Willa in a hug and then came over to the table, pulling out the chair next to me.
“Dylan’s coming over,” Waverly said, setting her cell aside. “So is Jessica.”
“Think your house just became the unofficial official youth hostel,” Savage said, reaching for one of my flapjacks.
