The mirror showed a nice, colorful display of bruising already starting across my cheek, and I had a lovely fat lip, but all in all… I’d had worse.
The clothes Riley had left me fit well. Soft sweatpants, a tank top with a built-in bra, and a black zip-up hoodie. It was incredible what a shower, clean hair, and fresh clothes could do for a person, and when I emerged from the bathroom, I felt a million times better already.
And hungry. Holy hell, I was hungry.
That hunger alone was what pushed me out of the bedroom in search of the kitchen. I found the stairs, then followed my nose as the salty smell of bacon wafted through the house and made my stomach lurch.
Oh man. It smelledsogood, but the last time I'd tried to eat bacon it tasted like fish.
Please have been a one off; I can't quit bacon forever!
"Hey, girl!" a pretty chick with a blonde-and-teal braid running down to her waist greeted as I entered the kitchen. "You slept forages. But excellent timing, my pretty pregnant friend; my babe is making breakfast for dinner."
I blinked at her several times in confusion, tucking my arms around myself and shifting my gaze to the tattooed guy standing at the stove with a frilly Mrs. Claus apron tied around his muscular neck.
"Um." I wet my lips, looking back at the girl. "Sorry, have we met? I don’t—”
"Oh shit, sorry, girl!" She grinned like she was about to start laughing, but not in a mean way. Or it didn't seem to be, anyway. "Sorry, where are my fucking manners? I'm Eddy, this is Dante."
The guy at the stove raised his spatula in a wave, and I gave him a small nod of greeting.
"And you're Brooke, right?" Eddy gave me a bright smile. "Come sit, Brooke. I wanna hearallabout you and how you met Dylan."
"Eddy!" Riley scolded, coming into the kitchen behind me. "Leave Brooke alone. Jesus, nosy bitch." She slid onto the barstool beside Eddy and exchanged a loving smile with the other girl, clearly joking. "Brooke, are you hungry? We all slept in pretty late, so it's breakfast for dinner."
I didn't need to ask what that was; it was pretty obvious, given that Dante was cooking bacon and eggs and the clock glowing on the oven told me it was seven in the evening.
"Uh, yeah. Yep, I'm pretty hungry." I awkwardly took a seat beside Riley and sat on my hands. "Thanks for the clothes, by the way."
"No worries." She reached out and poured a glass of orange juice for herself, and then one for me too. "How are you feeling? I hope you don't mind me overstepping a bit, but I arranged for an obstetrician to come over later tonight to check you over. Only if you're okay with it, though."
"Oh." My eyes widened with surprise.
Riley cringed. "Too far? That was too far. I just freaked when Beck said your brother had hit you and thought maybe you'd want to see someone—”
"No, you're totally right," I said, quickly cutting her off. "That was really thoughtful, thank you." I wrapped an arm around my stomach. It was such a stupid thing to do, like I could somehow physically reassure my pea-sized baby that I was doing my best to keep it safe. But it made me feel better, so whatever.
Relief flashed over Riley's beautiful face, and she gave me a genuine smile. "Good. Okay, cool. Well, he's going to come here to see you in about an hour. I figured you probably wouldn't want to go back to a hospital right now."
I grimaced, remembering the state of my hospital room when I'd walked out of there with Beck. There had to be repercussions for shit like that, didn't there? Police investigating or...something? Or did Delta just make that sort of shit disappear, never to be spoken of again?
Dante dished up plates of bacon and eggs for all of us and then several more, then handed plates directly across to Riley, Eddy, and I where we sat at the island.
"What the fuck?" a surly voice snapped from behind us, and my spine stiffened harder than steel.
Riley made an annoyed sound in her throat, then spun around in her seat with a vicious smile on her lips. "Well hello to you, too, D-man. You look terrible; you should shower."
I didn't turn around to look at him, but I couldfeelhim get closer to me. Then he leaned over my shoulder and shoved the plate of food away from me with a hand covered in dried blood.
"She can't eat bacon, Dante. It made her vomit the other day, and cured meats contain too much salt and possibly harmful bacteria for early pregnancy." He delivered this gem of information with an edge of anger that immediately pissed me off. What the hell washeso angry about?
My jaw tensed, but I still wasn't bold enough to call him out on his shitty attitude, which led to an extended, awkward silence. Eventually it became too much for me, and I gave Riley a tight smile.
"I think I'll go back to bed until the doctor gets here," I told her. "I suddenly don't have much appetite anyway."
Her brow furrowed. "Fuck that. No way! Dylan isn't going to make you scurry back to your room to hide. If you can't eat bacon, we will make you something else." She nodded to Dante, who was already putting a fresh skillet on the gas burner. "As foryou." Riley glared past me to Dylan—I assumed—and raised her chin. "Go shower, and don't come back in here until you canapologizeto Brooke."
"Me?" Dylan sounded stunned. "For fuckingwhat?"
