“Hey, pretty lady,” Eddie greeted. He stood there in an apron covered in little multi-colored handprints with names scrawled beneath. The club kids, I assumed. “I don’t know your favorite foods yet, so I’m making a little bit of everything. We got tacos going, baked ziti in the oven, and burgers. Figured there’s gotta be a favorite in there. But I do know you got a sweet tooth, so once all this is done, I got brownies and cupcakes ready to bake.”
“You are a god among men, Eddie,” I told him. “And literally all of those foods are my favorites.”
“Daniyal dropped by to bring all the shit from the boat,” Coast said.
“He’s been busy today,” I said. “We should send him something. What do you send super-secret men with unknown skills and no fingertips?” I asked.
“I really like the wearable blanket Shy got me for Christmas,” Eddie said.
“You live in fuckingFlorida,” York said. “How do you need a wearable blanket?”
“I get a chill sometimes,” Eddie said, shrugging.
I barely knew the guy.
But Eddie needed to be protected at all costs.
And if he was single, he needed a woman at home that he could share his love language (cooking) with while she took care of him in whatever way he needed.
“Why don’t I give you a lift upstairs to clean up?” Caymen asked, turning his back to me and lowering down. “By the time you’re done, food will be done.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” I agreed, wrapping my arms and legs around him and letting him piggyback me up the narrow stairs to the second floor.
“This is me,” he said as he pushed open a door to, well, a very plain room.
There was a queen-sized wooden bed that was neatly-made, with a charcoal comforter (that was covered in the bags of gifts from Zayn), two nightstands, and a tall dresser with a TV hung over it. He didn’t even have lamps, just the lights in the ceiling fan.
Still, he had a headboard. It was tidy. The clothes wereinthe hamper. All around, I’d seen much worse.
“I don’t have one of the rooms with a private bathroom,” he explained as he lowered me down. “But it’s right across the hall. Just no showers yet. Let your arm and feet sit with the antibiotic cream for a while.”
“Yeah, I just want to do a quick whore’s bath and get changed. How are you doing? Your face? Feet? Hands?”
“Well, I broke the knuckles open again on your sort-of cousin. I’ll clean them up myself. Zayn did my feet again. My face is nothing.”
“It’s pretty bruised and swollen.”
“It’ll heal.”
Yeah, it would.
And so would my injuries.
Until then, I was more than happy to hunker down in bed with him.
And tacos.
Baked ziti.
Burgers.
Brownies.
And cupcakes.
Caymen - 3 days
Once we ate, we fell into bed and just watched movies and slept.
