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14. international brooks day

DAKOTA

Parker: I'm here

Parker: It's cold hurry your cute butt up

Parker: Kota, I've been out here for a whole minute I think I'm getting frostbite

The only thing that can be heard is my sock-covered feet padding the floor as I suppress my giggle, rushing to the front door. The sun isn't up yet, but here I am baking a fucking cake. Not just any basic cake, because Brooks is anything but basic, but a birthday cake that's shaped like a stack of pancakes.

That boy is lucky I love him.

Parker doesn't even wait for me to open the door, pushing it open as soon as the lock audibly clicks. "Babe, you're hoarding all my hoodies I have none left," he laughs, coming in wearing just sweatpants and a t-shirt, kissing my forehead before jogging to my room.

I don't even try to defend myself, knowing it's the truth. I 'accidentally' forget one every time I go to the house, they're just so much comfier than mine and they smell like him.

I head back to the kitchen and Parker comes down a few minutes later, wearing a hoodie and arms full of his stolen clothes. "How much did you take from me?" I sadly question.

"Don't worry, my pouty girl, I left you a couple of things." He sets the hoodies down, coming over and wrapping me up in a bear hug now that he's warm. "Goodmorning," he takes my face in his hands, pressing his pink lips on mine and giving me a proper hello.

He steps back, hands on his hips as he looks around the counter. "So, where can I start?"

I try so hard to keep it in, I really do, but laughter escapes my lips. "I'm sorry," I cover my mouth as Parker stares at me, confused. "Park," one of my hands grabs his, "you make a mean brownie but there's no way in hell I'm letting you touch my cake."

"Why not?"

"It took you five minutes to ball up one cookie a few weeks ago, I have less than two hours to sculpt and decorate a cake." I usher him toward one of the barstools, "sit. I'll give you all of the cake scraps."

~

"Just be careful, don't slip with it."

"Kota, leave the poor guy alone I think he can carry an eight-pound cake," Ellie laughs at my stressed demeanor.

"You're right, I'm sorry," I sigh, rubbing a hand over Parker's muscular back.

"I just watched you spend the last hour and a half perfecting this cake, I get why you're stressed," Parker waves off my concern. "But I'm taking your statement as a compliment to my muscles, Ellie," my boy, always a little cocky.

I'm actually so proud of this cake. It was my first time doing a realistic food cake, and I fucking nailed it, down to the fake butter on top.

I take Parker's keys, unlocking the door to the house quietly. "I'll go get Connor, you both go wait by Brooks' room."

Connor has a thing for waking me up by jumping on top of me, crushing my lungs in the process. So, that's exactly how I decide to wake my sleeping beauty up this lovely morning.

"Fuck," he grunts, eyes shooting open. "What the hell, Kota?"

I plop a wet kiss on his cheek, "come on, we're about to wake up Brooks."

Connor groans as we walk down the hallway, muttering a "your girlfriend is psychotic," to Parker who just chuckles.

Ellie opens the door as she starts to sing 'happy birthday,' the rest of us join in right after.