“If you want to grab the toaster from under that cabinet there, you can slice the bagels and get them toasted.”
“Heard, chef.” I gave him a fake salute, and he rolled his eyes and continued to cook the bacon.
“Hey, Alexa, play The Lumineers,” Knox said.
Music filled the cottage as I sliced bagels and put them in the toaster. I looked over to Eugene with his head propped on the arm of the couch, watching Knox and me in the kitchen, then back to Knox, and was hit by a moment of realization.
This was why Connor was so insistent on me finding someone and settling down. He knew that lazy-Saturday feeling of being in the kitchen making brunch with your partner, your heart feeling whole and full. This must be what he felt with Colleen.
Knox was focused on cracking eggs and frying them in the leftover bacon grease. His arms flexed as he moved the spatula around the edges of the eggs. I loved the way that his veins strained a little as he tightened his grip on the handle.
Could I have this someday? Am I missing out on this, right here, if I continue courting Oliver?I didn’t know. But I did know that I wanted nothing more for the day: I wanted to enjoy that very moment. I wanted to soak in whatever the day had to bring and simplybe.
“Here you go.” Knox set a plate in front of me.
“This looks delicious, thank you.”
He came around the island and sat down next to me.
“So…” He took a drink of his coffee. “Bananas, huh?”
“Fucking bananas.”
“I’ll make sure there is never a fruit salad at any state or formal dinner ever.” He smiled.
I laughed. “Thank you.” I took a bite of the sandwich, the egg bursting and dripping onto the plate.
Knox shuddered. “Fucking runny eggs on a bagel.”
“It’s amazing. Seriously, this is one of the best things I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
Knox coughed and I set my sandwich down to pat him on the back.
“Hands up, big guy.” I moved his arm over his head and patted him on the back again until the coughing spell subsided.
“There,” I said. “We’re even now. You saved my life, I’ve saved yours.”
He smirked at me. “God. You and your fucking smart-ass mouth.”
Vince
Birdie, are you okay? What the fuck happened last night? One minute you’re with the queen tasting pastries and then the next thing I know, Oliver told me Knox took you out the back because you had an allergic reaction?
Hi. I’m doing fine. I did have an allergic reaction and got sick. Oliver decided I should go to Knox’s house so the press didn’t see me and make up some wild story. But now I’m stuck here until this storm passes
This sucks. I’m the worst friend ever. I should have been there. I’m so sorry, B
Vince, stop! You’re not a bad friend. It was an accident. Oliver and Knox were there for me and got me sorted out. It’s all good.
I mean, you’re at the palace, this could be good. You could walk up and stay with Oliver
Oh God
I set my phone next to me on the couch and pulled the fuzzy blanket around my shoulders, cuddling deep into the cushions. We had spent most of the day on the couch with drinks and junk food, watching holiday movies. The only time Knox had gotten up was to let Eugene out for about two seconds and to refill the popcorn bowl and our drinks.
Knox’s phone chimed with a few text messages. He read them, letting out a huff and throwing his phone onto the coffee table.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
