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“Missed you today,” Tom told me as he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms. I clung on and inhaled his scent of sandalwood bodywash mixed with his smell after a day’s work. It wasn’t unpleasant, quite the opposite actually and it soothed me with its familiarity.
“Missed you too.” We held like that for a few moments, then I pulled back and looked them over. They looked tired and I guessed they had another tough day at work. They were simply spread too thin, working too many jobs at once with not enough guys on their crew. They were in the process of recruiting more, but they were particular about who they took on, and so the process was proving to be lengthy.
“Have you two eaten?” I asked as I followed them over to the island where they both tiredly collapsed onto seats.
“Not yet. We wanted to come and see you first,” Liam replied.
“Let me make you something. You want some coffee?” I offered as I rounded the island and started pulling mugs from the cupboard, already knowing the answer to my question.
“Definitely coffee, but you don’t need to cook for us, babe,” Tom told me. “We can grab something later.”
“It’s no trouble. I’m not a great cook or anything, but I can whip up some stir fry, or maybe some pasta?” I offered.
“Oh nice,” Trent huffed. “They get a cooked meal while I just get left overs.”
“Stop pouting, you big baby,” I laughed. “I wasn’t going to cook a meal just for you.”
“Stir fry sounds good, jelly bean,” Liam told me as he sent Trent a smug self-satisfied grin. “You want some help?”
“No. Stay there. I c-can manage,” I assured him as I turned to the fridge and started pulling out chicken and vegetables.
“I better be getting some of that,” Trent pouted childishly and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You have a huge plate of food you’ve already eaten half of,” I pointed out.
“I want to try your cooking. You haven’t cooked anything since you got here. I didn’t even know you could,” he said as he shoved the half-eaten plate of food away from him.
“Of course I can cook. I lived alone for five years. I h-had to learn,” I scoffed, but if I were honest I was nervous as I set to work chopping onions and peppers. I hadn’t cooked anything more than a slice of toast since the brain injury and while my motor skills were much improved, they were still hit and miss. I wasn’t entirely sure how I would handle chopping, and it was taking a lot of power to try and remember how exactly to make the stir fry, which I had only ever made twice in my life.
“What kinds of things did you cook for yourself?” Tom asked as he sipped at his coffee.
“Well, not much, if I’m honest. Most of my wage went on my rent, b-bills, and the bus pass I needed to get two buses to work each day. I lived pretty f-far f-from the university because I needed somewhere cheap to rent,” I shrugged. “But once a month, on payday, I would go to the supermarket and splurge on ingredients for a proper home c-cooked meal. It was usually some recipe I had seen on the cooking programmes I watched on TV, that I w-wanted to try.”
“What did you eat the rest of the time?” Trent asked.
“A lot of noodles and dry cereal. I used to t-take jam sandwiches to work if I could.” I looked up when they all went silent and saw them looking between each other with some level of shock, that took me by surprise.
“Don’t look so horrified,” I laughed. “It was f-fine. I always had food when I was hungry, which was a hell of a lot more than I h-had growing up.”
“I’m sorry, Blake,” Tom told me. I looked up to him and smiled, refusing to drag them all down into the darkness of my history.
“It’s the past. Now I have more f-food options than I know what to do with,” I laughed, then I busied myself pulling pans out of the cupboard.
The guys started chattering on about some sports team while I set to work cooking. I didn’t even know what sport they were talking about, but it felt good to be able to busily work away with them all there for company.
As I was serving the food up onto plates, Luca walked in and looked to me.
“What smells so good?” he asked as he looked over Trent to the food.
“Chicken stir fry. You w-want some? There’s plenty,” I offered and he nodded eagerly as he took a seat beside Trent.
“I didn’t know you cooked,” he remarked.
“Nor did I,” I uttered, relieved I had actually managed to successfully prepare and cook the meal unscathed.
“It looks great, Blake,” Liam told me as I pushed a plate his way, then gave more plates out to the others. “You’re not having any?” he paused with a forkful halfway to his mouth and looked to me expectantly.
“Fiona and I had a t-ton of pasta for lunch. I’m not hungry.” Instead I poured more coffee into my cup and took the seat between Tom and Liam as all four guys dug into my cooking.
