I wrapped my blanket tighter around my shoulders and stepped into the kitchen.
“I made enough for two,” he informed, pouring the dark liquid into mugs.
“Thanks,” I said as he offered one to me.
Bryce nodded in response.
“I guess you couldn’t sleep either, huh?” I asked, rubbing my arm as I leaned against the fridge.
“With all the shit that has transpired in the last forty hours or so? Hell no.”
I chuckled in agreeance, blowing softly on my coffee to cool it down.
“You wanna join me for a cup of coffee… or you got a meeting in the bedroom?”
I scoffed. “A meeting in the bedroom? Boy please! That meeting has been rescheduled…indefinitely.”
Bryce lifted a brow in confusion.
“I reassigned him to a different wing,” I playfully clarified. “New room. New bed. No access to executive privileges. HR was very clear.”
Bryce let out a low laugh. “Damn.”
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I like my sleep uninterrupted and my peace non-negotiable. So yes—” I lifted my mug slightly, “I’ve got time to talk over a cup of coffee.”
He smirked. “Good.”
We moved to the dining table and sat. Above us, the chandelier-style light flickered just once, then again, like it was unsure if it wanted to keep working or quit mid-shift.
I peered up at the light, then back at Bryce. “You think it’s gonna get bad? Like… really bad?”
“It’s possible,” he replied. “But if it does… I’m prepared. You know that. You know me. I ain’t never gon’ let nothing happen to you.”
I didn’t say anything at first. I just nodded softly and glanced away, my gaze falling to the flickering shadow his words left in my chest.
I did know that… even when I wanted to pretend I didn’t… even when I hated him for all the ways he left me to fight my own storms in the past. Deep down, I knew if shit ever hit the fan, Bryce Frost was the man I’d want in the room. He was calm, capable, and covered in flaws, but still the safest place I’d ever known.
I finally looked back up at him, my voice quiet. “Yeah… I know.”
For a moment, it was just quiet sipping… then Bryce leaned forward, his voice low, but laced with that signature Bryce bite.
“Chesteria… who thehelldid we bring here? I brought a bougie-ass Instagram motivational speaker with a Wi-Fi addiction, a face full of filters, and a diet that screams ‘gluten-free, vegan-adjacent, oat-milk-everything, and lemon water withintention. Andyoubrought a nigga who look like he got lost on his way to a job interview and just decided to stay.”
My laughter was loud, bold, and full-body shakes that felt liberating. The ridiculousness of the situation hit me full force.
“That nigga didn’t know the first thing about cutting wood. I watched him stand over a log like it was about to attack him first. He lifted the axe once, and I swear the axe tapped him on the foot like,try again, my boy. I had to help ‘em out.”
I chuckled. “I was watching from the inside before I came out, and he did seem like he needed supervision.”
Bryce sipped again, cool and slow, like that was therapy. “The nigga say he from the trenches, but crumbles at cold weather and hard labor. He obviously got his survival tips from TikTok and‘Hood Men Who Hike’YouTube shorts. And that courage? Yeah… he had to buy it at the corner store with a half pint of off-brand tequila and two loose Swishers.”
“Bryce!” I wheezed.
I had to set my cup down to keep the coffee from spilling on me.
Bryce, however, wasn't done with his comedic break.
“For real, though… how he wanna build a legacy with you but can’t build a bunk bed? Niggas always hollering ‘alpha’ but can’t alpha their way outta a flooded basement, can’t change a tire but got ‘Provider’ in their bio, can’t unclog a drain, can’t change a smoke detector battery without calling they daddy, gotta phone a friend just to hang a flat screen, don’t know where the breaker box at, ain’t touched a toolbox since middle school shop class and be thirty-three talkin' 'bout, ‘My uncle got a guy for that. If Alexa can’t do it, it ain’t getting done.Me?I grew up where winter meantwork,and where being a man wasn’t optional… it was a requirement.”
