To the Stars
Page 73
“We don’t need to do anything. I cleaned it again before we came out here,” Knox said, his tone annoyed, but clearly amused.
Knox had given them a perfect description. Mother hens.
I stopped playing with my hands and gestured to the food. “Thank you, and thank you for the clothes, and everything. Just . . . thank . . . you,” I ended lamely. Because before I’d finished with my thanks, Deacon and Graham were already moving into action.
Deacon was grabbing a plate and cup out of cupboards, and after handing off the plate to Graham, went over to the fridge to fill up the cup with orange juice while Graham piled food onto the plate. Graham was still filling the plate when Deacon set the drink down, so he turned right back around to grab silverware, and placed it in front of me at the same time Graham slid the beyond-full plate toward me.
“I can’t . . .” I began, but didn’t finish. Both guys were staring at me like they were proud of what they’d done, and eager to have me eat.
“I’ll eat what you can’t,” Knox promised softly in my ear, but the guys still heard.
“Get your own, that’s hers!” Deacon huffed.
Knox looked at me, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. His eyes dragged over to where the guys were now getting more plates for themselves and mouthed, “Mother hens.”
Knox held out a chair for me, then walked into the kitchen once I was seated. When he slid into the chair next to me, all he had was a fork. My eyes were still wide as I alternated staring at the plate and eyeing the other two guys in the kitchen. I hated eating in front of people. They always noticed too much, things I didn’t want them to—not that these three didn’t already know enough. And from what Graham had placed in front of me, he and Deacon planned on me eating a lot.
There were two biscuits—each one bigger than one of my fists—smothered in gravy, four sausage patties, four strips of bacon, a mountain of hash browns, and the largest cinnamon roll I’d ever seen.
Knox’s lips went to my ear. “They aren’t expecting anything, they’re just giving you a choice. They won’t judge you, Low.” With a kiss to my jaw, he pulled away, only to bring my chair closer to his as he dug into the food.
I looked over the table as the other two guys followed his lead, and tried to sort through the twisting in my stomach and warming in my chest. Everything felt so conflicted, and I couldn’t make sense of it. This morning felt good, right even. Waking up in Knox’s arms, spending unhurried time learning each other’s bodies, and now eating breakfast with him and his friends—that was the warming in my chest. Sitting there, I could see this happening for years to come. But then my stomach twisted tighter.
No matter how right it all felt, no matter how much I wanted it, it felt like a lie in that moment. We were pretending that my monster wasn’t somewhere waiting for me, probably already making plans to hurt those I loved—if he wasn’t already trying to carry them out.
I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at the table but seeing nothing, before Knox tilted my head to the side so I was facing him.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice low and tone dark. His body was on alert suddenly, and the guys felt the anxious energy rolling off Knox, judging by the way they both dropped their forks.
I held Knox’s stare for a few seconds as I debated telling him. I didn’t want to ruin the morning, but we couldn’t avoid it forever. “I need to do something about Collin. Soon.”
Knox was nodding before I finished talking. “We know. We’re going to talk about our plans when we’re done eating.”
I glanced to Deacon and Graham, and took in their worried but determined expressions, and wondered just how much the three of them had done while I’d slept last night. While looking at them, I noticed it was still somewhat dark behind the closed blinds in the kitchen, and looked around the kitchen until I found a clock.
“Six fifteen? Why are you guys awake—how long have you been awake? And how did you get all this food?”
Deacon shrugged. “We had things to do, and Mama’s Café opens at six, but we have connections.”
“He has connections,” Graham corrected.
Once again, Deacon shrugged. “My grandma is ‘Mama.’”
“Oh.” I felt my cheeks burn. I hadn’t had anyone go through this much trouble for me ever, and didn’t know how to respond to it. “Thank you.”
“Just eat,” Graham prompted. “Like Knox said, we’ll talk after.”
From his tone, I knew they had plenty to talk about.
I was able to finish part of a sausage patty, two bites of biscuit and gravy, one bite of hash browns, and the entire center of the cinnamon roll. I smiled to myself and placed a hand on my stomach as I wondered when the last time was that I’d been full, but my smile fell when I looked up to see Graham and Deacon with twin looks of sympathy.
They were trying to look understanding, but it was obvious they wished I’d eaten more. And since the three of them were able to polish the rest of the food off, I was willing to bet it wasn’t because they were worried about any of it being wasted.
Graham’s eyes drifted over to Knox and quickly hit the table, then Deacon did the same. I didn’t know what Knox’s expression looked like, but I figured I didn’t want to and was glad for the interruption from Graham and Deacon.
The forks hadn’t hit the plates before they’d all started talking at the same time.
“So what’d you see?” Knox asked.
“There’s a weird car on our street,” Graham whispered in a rush.
“Here’s what I think you should do,” Deacon said as he dropped his elbows onto the table.
They all sat back and looked at each other. Knox was the first to speak again. “What do you mean weird car. What kind of car?”
“Like, a car that doesn’t belong here,” Graham answered. “I can’t be sure, but I’m almost positive it was there last night when we left to get Harlow the outfit, but I hadn’t been looking then. But it was definitely there when I left to check the house, it was there when I came back, and it was there this morning when Deacon left to get the food.”
“What kind of car?” Knox asked again.
“Dark, some BMW,” Graham said immediately, and I felt Knox stop breathing at the same time my body began shaking.
Knox had given them a perfect description. Mother hens.
I stopped playing with my hands and gestured to the food. “Thank you, and thank you for the clothes, and everything. Just . . . thank . . . you,” I ended lamely. Because before I’d finished with my thanks, Deacon and Graham were already moving into action.
Deacon was grabbing a plate and cup out of cupboards, and after handing off the plate to Graham, went over to the fridge to fill up the cup with orange juice while Graham piled food onto the plate. Graham was still filling the plate when Deacon set the drink down, so he turned right back around to grab silverware, and placed it in front of me at the same time Graham slid the beyond-full plate toward me.
“I can’t . . .” I began, but didn’t finish. Both guys were staring at me like they were proud of what they’d done, and eager to have me eat.
“I’ll eat what you can’t,” Knox promised softly in my ear, but the guys still heard.
“Get your own, that’s hers!” Deacon huffed.
Knox looked at me, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. His eyes dragged over to where the guys were now getting more plates for themselves and mouthed, “Mother hens.”
Knox held out a chair for me, then walked into the kitchen once I was seated. When he slid into the chair next to me, all he had was a fork. My eyes were still wide as I alternated staring at the plate and eyeing the other two guys in the kitchen. I hated eating in front of people. They always noticed too much, things I didn’t want them to—not that these three didn’t already know enough. And from what Graham had placed in front of me, he and Deacon planned on me eating a lot.
There were two biscuits—each one bigger than one of my fists—smothered in gravy, four sausage patties, four strips of bacon, a mountain of hash browns, and the largest cinnamon roll I’d ever seen.
Knox’s lips went to my ear. “They aren’t expecting anything, they’re just giving you a choice. They won’t judge you, Low.” With a kiss to my jaw, he pulled away, only to bring my chair closer to his as he dug into the food.
I looked over the table as the other two guys followed his lead, and tried to sort through the twisting in my stomach and warming in my chest. Everything felt so conflicted, and I couldn’t make sense of it. This morning felt good, right even. Waking up in Knox’s arms, spending unhurried time learning each other’s bodies, and now eating breakfast with him and his friends—that was the warming in my chest. Sitting there, I could see this happening for years to come. But then my stomach twisted tighter.
No matter how right it all felt, no matter how much I wanted it, it felt like a lie in that moment. We were pretending that my monster wasn’t somewhere waiting for me, probably already making plans to hurt those I loved—if he wasn’t already trying to carry them out.
I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at the table but seeing nothing, before Knox tilted my head to the side so I was facing him.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice low and tone dark. His body was on alert suddenly, and the guys felt the anxious energy rolling off Knox, judging by the way they both dropped their forks.
I held Knox’s stare for a few seconds as I debated telling him. I didn’t want to ruin the morning, but we couldn’t avoid it forever. “I need to do something about Collin. Soon.”
Knox was nodding before I finished talking. “We know. We’re going to talk about our plans when we’re done eating.”
I glanced to Deacon and Graham, and took in their worried but determined expressions, and wondered just how much the three of them had done while I’d slept last night. While looking at them, I noticed it was still somewhat dark behind the closed blinds in the kitchen, and looked around the kitchen until I found a clock.
“Six fifteen? Why are you guys awake—how long have you been awake? And how did you get all this food?”
Deacon shrugged. “We had things to do, and Mama’s Café opens at six, but we have connections.”
“He has connections,” Graham corrected.
Once again, Deacon shrugged. “My grandma is ‘Mama.’”
“Oh.” I felt my cheeks burn. I hadn’t had anyone go through this much trouble for me ever, and didn’t know how to respond to it. “Thank you.”
“Just eat,” Graham prompted. “Like Knox said, we’ll talk after.”
From his tone, I knew they had plenty to talk about.
I was able to finish part of a sausage patty, two bites of biscuit and gravy, one bite of hash browns, and the entire center of the cinnamon roll. I smiled to myself and placed a hand on my stomach as I wondered when the last time was that I’d been full, but my smile fell when I looked up to see Graham and Deacon with twin looks of sympathy.
They were trying to look understanding, but it was obvious they wished I’d eaten more. And since the three of them were able to polish the rest of the food off, I was willing to bet it wasn’t because they were worried about any of it being wasted.
Graham’s eyes drifted over to Knox and quickly hit the table, then Deacon did the same. I didn’t know what Knox’s expression looked like, but I figured I didn’t want to and was glad for the interruption from Graham and Deacon.
The forks hadn’t hit the plates before they’d all started talking at the same time.
“So what’d you see?” Knox asked.
“There’s a weird car on our street,” Graham whispered in a rush.
“Here’s what I think you should do,” Deacon said as he dropped his elbows onto the table.
They all sat back and looked at each other. Knox was the first to speak again. “What do you mean weird car. What kind of car?”
“Like, a car that doesn’t belong here,” Graham answered. “I can’t be sure, but I’m almost positive it was there last night when we left to get Harlow the outfit, but I hadn’t been looking then. But it was definitely there when I left to check the house, it was there when I came back, and it was there this morning when Deacon left to get the food.”
“What kind of car?” Knox asked again.
“Dark, some BMW,” Graham said immediately, and I felt Knox stop breathing at the same time my body began shaking.
