I head to the kitchen and start making breakfast because I need something to do with my hands. I pull out eggs and bacon. Then get a pan and heat it on the stove. I crack eggs into a bowl and whisk them harder than necessary.
A quiet knock on the front door interrupts my aggressive whisking.
I check my phone. Five thirty.
I walk over and open the door.
Callum’s standing in practice gear with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
“Morning, sunshine,” he says, walking past me uninvited.
“It’s not even six.”
“Yeah, but I figured you’d be up. Plus I wanted to see how Tiger’s first night went.” He drops his bag by the couch and follows me to the kitchen. “Also, are you making breakfast? Because I’m starving.”
“I’m making breakfast for three people.”
“Perfect. I’m one of them.”
I don’t argue. I just crack more eggs into the bowl for four fucking people instead.
Callum leans against the counter watching me cook. “So? How’d it go?”
“Fine.”
“Fine? That’s all I get?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Details? Is she settling in okay? Did she freak out? Did you freak out?”
I flip the bacon. “Nobody freaked out.”
“Yeah, well…”
I ignore him and keep cooking. I scramble the eggs and toast bread while Callum just scrolls on his phone. I set the table for four even though I told Callum I was only cooking for three.
Around six, I hear movement down the hall.
Zephyr appears first. His hair’s messy. His eyes are still half-closed. He sees Callum and stops.
“When did you get here?”
“Like an hour ago,” Callum exaggerates.
“It’s been thirty minutes,” I correct.
Tiger walks out a minute later wearing an oversized t-shirt—one of mine, I realize—and pajama shorts. Her hair’s pulled up in a messy bun. She’s still rubbing sleep from her eyes.
She looks cute.
Dangerously cute.
“Morning,” she says softly.
“Morning,” the two of us echo back.
She sits at the table. Zephyr immediately moves to the coffee maker and starts brewing a cup.
