"What happened?" he asks.
I show him the text. Watch his jaw tighten.
"Fuck," he says. Then, "We're telling her?"
"After breakfast," Pine confirms. "Let her have a few more hours."
"Then we better make it a really good breakfast," Cassian says.
The resort has room service, but we all agree Sharon deserves better than continental breakfast and coffee that's been sitting in a pot since yesterday. Cassian and I head down to the resort's restaurant while Pine stays in the suite in case Sharon wakes up.
The restaurant is busy. Smells like coffee and bacon and money. We order enough food to feed a small country because Sharon's appetite is directly connected to how much energy she burned the day before, and yesterday was a fucking marathon.
Pancakes with fresh berries and real maple syrup because she has opinions about fake syrup that she will share whether you asked or not. Waffles with whipped cream because apparently pancakes and waffles are different foods that serve different purposes and she will die on that hill. Scrambled eggs with cheese. Bacon. Sausage. Fresh fruit. Orange juice. Coffee that actually smells like someone gave a shit when they brewed it.
We carry everything back up in multiple trips. Pine's set up the balcony table facing the mountain view. The morning sun is hitting the peaks just right, turning the snow golden and making the whole thing look like a postcard.
Sharon emerges from the bedroom twenty minutes later wearing one of my t-shirts that hangs down to her thighs andnothing else. Her hair is messy from sleep. Her eyes are still heavy. She looks soft and satisfied and absolutely perfect.
"Is that coffee I smell?" she asks, her voice rough.
"And pancakes and waffles," I say, pulling out a chair for her. "Because apparently you can't choose between them."
"They're different foods," she says, settling into the chair and reaching for the coffee like it's oxygen. "Pancakes are fluffy and light. Waffles are crispy and substantial. It's like comparing apples and oranges."
"It's exactly like that," Pine says, settling next to her. "If apples and oranges were both made of flour and eggs."
Sharon flips him off while taking a long drink of coffee, and fuck if that casual intimacy doesn't make something warm settle in my chest. This is what pack looks like. Comfortable enough to flip each other off. Safe enough to be vulnerable without worrying about it biting you in the ass later.
We eat breakfast while the sun climbs higher. Sharon loads her plate with both pancakes and waffles, proving her point by eating them in a specific order. Pancakes first with butter and syrup. Then waffles with whipped cream. Then back to pancakes. She's got a whole system.
Cassian watches her eat with barely hidden amusement. Pine drinks his coffee and watches the mountains. I try to focus on the food instead of Ben's text sitting on my phone like a bomb.
"So," Sharon says around a mouthful of waffle, "what's the plan? Are we heading home or staying another night? Because I could definitely be convinced to stay if someone wanted to use that hot tub again."
"Home," Cassian says. "I've got a shift tomorrow and you've got wedding planning to do after all the new clients that signed up at Tangle’s wedding.”
Sharon groans dramatically but doesn't argue. She knows he's right. After breakfast, we pack up. Sharon disappears intothe bathroom for a shower while the three of us clean up and make sure we're not leaving anything behind.
I'm folding shirts when Cassian moves next to me.
"You're going to tell her in the truck," he says. Not a question.
"Yeah. I don't want to ruin the morning, but she needs to know before we get home. She needs time to process."
"Want me to drive?" Cassian offers.
"Yeah. That would help."
Sharon emerges from the bathroom thirty minutes later looking clean and refreshed. She's wearing jeans and a soft sweater Pine packed for her. Her hair's still damp, pulled back in a simple ponytail. Minimal makeup.
"Ready?" she asks, grabbing her bag.
“Sure.”
The drive down the mountain starts quiet. Sharon's in the passenger seat next to Cassian, watching the scenery pass. Pine's in the back seat next to me. The radio's playing something instrumental that doesn't demand attention.
We're about twenty minutes in when I pull out my phone.
