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“I looked it up! It doesn’t exist.” She sets the laptop on the counter and spins it toward him. She points an accusatory finger at it. “It. Doesn’t. Exist!”
“Oli,” Chase starts, stumbling forward a step.
“Don’t Oli me!” she screeches, the sound making me wince.
I glance at Kon, finding his eyebrows raised as he flicks his eyes between the Tanner’s. He brings his mug to his lips and takes a sip before looking at me.
He notices me staring, and quickly looks away, but does a double-take, his eyes dropping to my shirt. His lips twitch before he shakes his head, looking at Chase and Oli again.
“I—I swear—” Chase tries to speak, but Oli lets out a huff and turns on her heel, her purple hair flying behind her.
“Just tell her—”
“Shut it,” Chase growls at Kon. Kon’s brows raise again; even I’m taken aback at Chase’s tone. He takes a deep breath before looking at me, plastering a pleasant expression on his face. “Here’s your—oh my God. Your shirt.” I glance down at myself, feeling self conscious. “I love it.”
“Oh,” I breathe, my face turning red. “It’s Oli’s.” He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he moves toward me.
Holding the sandwich and cup out, I hesitantly take it, glancing at Kon again. “What’s this?”
“Breakfast sandwich,” he says cheerily. “Gave one to Daddy Kon, too.” He winks at the giant Russian, and I almost expect him to growl, or scold Chase. Instead, he just sighs, but there’s a gleam in his eye, one that tells me he’s not all that annoyed.
“These better not be that Fakeun shit,” Kon grumbles, and Chase gasps.
“I’d never feed you fake bacon,” he says, offended.
“You made me eat that foam shit at that place—”
“And I’ve apologized a million times for it,” Chase groans. “And I bought you a burger.”
“Still hated it,” Kon mumbles under his breath before muttering something in Russian.
“Hey. I resent that.”
“You speak Russian?” I blurt, and Chase winks at me. My lips twitch as Kon grunts, his face still too serious. “So, bacon sandwiches?”
“Better be real bacon,” Kon growls as he storms past me. I shuffle to the side, letting him pass.
Jeez, the big guy likes his bacon.
“It’s turkey bacon. But don’t tell him.” I shake my head as Chase slings the apron off over his head and tosses it on the counter. “I need to check on her.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
We stand awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, and Chase clears his throat. “Well. Anyway, have fun.”
I press my lips together in a tight smile as I nod. “You too.” He hesitates before hurrying past me, making sure to not touch me.
With a deep breath, I grip the things in my hands tighter before turning toward the door. Kon is waiting for me, his sandwich already half eaten. “Come.”
I follow him from the loft and down the steps to the parking lot. He leads me to an old truck, and I pause. “I can’t drive this.”
His brow kicks up. “Why not?”
“Because—” I don’t have a good excuse. I just don’t want to. I don’t know Kon, and I can’t get behind the wheel of his car. What if I crash? Or what if I do something to ruin it? I can’t afford to buy him a new truck, or fix whatever I broke. “Because it’s too big.”
Kon snorts as he unlocks the truck and jerks his chin toward it. Anxiety swirls in my stomach as he slides into the passenger seat, his face passive as he waits for me.
Resigned, I pull open the driver door and slip inside. Setting the coffee in the cup holder, the sandwich and my phone on the bench seat between us, I slide my eyes to the gearshift, then to the floorboard where the pedals are.
