"Oh my god this is so goooood." Torey groans around a mouthful of breakfast sandwich, black hair askew and sticking up in every different direction. The man is so damn beautiful he makes bedhead look like a fashion statement. "I have missed your cooking. Mmm mm mm." He's licking his fingers after devouring the first half of it. The way his tongue wraps around each digit, savoring the flavor with his eyes closed, has my brain going to places it shouldn't be this early in the morning. "I could get used to waking up to this everyday."
"So you've said on multiple occasions." To be fair, I have also missed cooking for someone everyday. I had done it for over a year for Dani not to mention the restaurant I worked at.
"What can I say? This breakfast sandwich is like," he takes another massive bite and continues talking around his food, "it's like the best tasting thing I've ever had." It's a simple enough recipe but the man doesn't know how to cook anything beyond a bowl of cereal. It's surprising, really, considering his dad is a great cook. He isn't as good as me but he's good. Torey finishes his last bite with a satisfied hum. He'd managed to finish the thing in four, maybe five, bites. He leans back it his seat and rubs his stomach with a grin. After a moment he arches his back and makes an achey face as he cracks it.
"I don't know how many times I have to tell you but you can take the room I'm staying in, Torey. I don't care. I told you—"
"That you can fall asleep anywhere, I know. You've only said it a million times and I have told you a million times in return that I am fine in the upstairs bedroom." He holds up a hand silencing the words I'm about to say. "The stairs don't bother me. I need to get my exercise in anyway." I finish my sandwich with a sigh. "Unless you want me to move back into the house?"
"Torey, it's your house. I am just a guest in it. You can stay wherever you want."
"Correction, this is my parents' house not mine. It's pretty clear that they've practically given you this space." He swirls a finger around the room. "This is more yours than it is mine. I mean, for Christ's sake, look at your closet."
"No, it's not." I reiterate. I'm only here until everything is settled with Dani and Wolf but I'm not going to say that. I don't want to dampen the mood. "All I'm sayin' is that if you're uncomfortable upstairs I do not mind you sleeping in my room."
He arches a playful brow. "I bet you don't. Bet you'd like it if I snuggled up in bed with you at night."
"The bed is big enough. If you would like to, then by all means, go right ahead." He looks taken aback with that retort, probably thinking I wouldn't have anything to say to him at all. "What're the plans for the day. What are we up to?"
"Boston is coming over to show me the final sketches of the tattoo. He'll probably get started on it soon." I don't say anything to that because he knows how I feel about it. He's still healing and making his body have to heal something like that on top of it seems rather ridiculous because of something superficial.
"Will Monica and Presley be joining us?"
"Nah, just Bos." I give him a nod of the head. "He'll probably be staying for dinner, not sure. So, you know, if you want to show off some more, feel free."
"Is that a hint?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." His face tells me he knows exactly what I'm talking about.
"Do you want me to cook dinner for everyone?" He shrugs looking like he could give two shits. "Okay, then I guess we'll just order out, then. I don't mind picking it up." He rolls his head to the side to give me pleading eyes. How anyone resists those bright gems I don't even know. It's hardly fair. "If you want me to cook for you all you have to do is ask."
"Fine, yes, I want you to do your fancy cooking thing because I'm a whore for it."
"A whore for me, you say?"
"Food. I am a whore for food." He pushes away from the table and gives a big stretch. I do the same minus the stretch. I grab his plate and my own and head toward the sink to clean up. "Hey, I got that."
"It's fine. I don't mind cleaning."
Torey sidles up alongside me with, "no, I got it. You cooked so I'll clean. You've been spoiling me with all this good cooking anyway." I step aside, letting him go to work washing the dishes and putting some in the dishwasher as I lean against the counter.
"Is there anything that I should be aware of that Boston is allergic or averse to?" Torey bursts out into a deep laugh. "What?"
"Boston? A food aversion or allergy?" Another bout of laughter falls from him. "If there's anything that man can do outside of draw and paint it is eat. He puts food away like he has ten stomachs. The only thing you have to worry about is having enough food for the rest of us."
"Make more than enough food. Got it."
✩✩✩
The sound of Torey and Boston's voices singing in harmony with one another, while Boston strums away on his guitar, is something unexpected. Just like watching Torey play the piano. It was not a skill I thought someone like Torey would possess, having such a lovely voice. I'm starting to realize that the longer Torey is here in Vegas, around family and friends, that that hardened facade he'd had to hold for so long is starting to slowly crumble away. The man I had thought to be underneath all of that finally revealing himself.
Plating each of the bowls in front of me a sense of calm washes over me. Cooking tended to do that to me, put me in my happy place. It would appear singing did much of the same for Torey as he and Boston come into the kitchen. They're wearing smiles, joking around easily. It's satisfying to be around this version of Torey.
"It's nearly ready," I state, wiping a bit of sauce off the edge of one of the bowls.
"That looks so delicious." Boston comes over and spies each of the dishes. "My mouth is watering." As if to prove the point his stomach audibly growls.
"Why don't you two go sit down at the table. Torey, can you call for Adri as well?"
"You didn't have to make a dish for her." I throw a scowl his way at his rudeness. "Alright, fine. I'll get her." He screams her name from the top of his lungs. "ADRIIIIIIII, DIIIIIIINERRRRRRR!!!" He emphasizes once more.
"Torey, are you fucking kidding me right now? You nearly busted one of my ear drums."
"Not the only thing I'll have you busting." Boston's brows shoot to his hairline and I'm pretty sure mine did the exact same. "I mean..." He clears his throat and thumbs over his shoulder. "I'm just going to go sit down."
"Let me help you with these," Boston offers to grab one of the dishes.
"Nonsense. You are a guest." He cocks his head to the side at my words so I add, feeling a bit uncomfortable, "not that I'm not but you know what I mean. I made the food and everything."
"No, I think you fit in pretty well around here, Brooks." He gives me a couple pats on my shoulder before heading out of the room. I'm not entirely sure what that was about because if I hadn't been mistaken there had been insinuation behind those words. I'm probably just looking too much into things. Yeah, probably.
I pick up two bowls and bring them out to the dinning table, setting them in front of Adriana and Boston first, which has Torey grimacing. Such a big baby. Heading back into the kitchen I fetch the last two bowls before setting them down for both me and Torey. He looks like a kid in a candy shop as he picks up his utensils.
Once everyone digs into their food I'm met with resounding appreciation. Something about that makes me extremely happy. We eat mainly in silence, everyone too focused on their plates to want to say much in between. It was a surprise to me considering how much I know Adriana can talk.
Boston kicks back in his seat, hands rubbing his belly after he devoured his meal. "I can't believe I ate that entire bowl."
"Yeah, whatever you say. He could've placed two in front of you and you would've made sure to destroy both."
"You're not wrong." He looks over to me. "You are one hell of a cook, my guy. Torey is a lucky man."
"Thank you." I don't touch on the last part of his statement. I'm hesitant to even look at Torey afraid of what kind of face he's probably making.
"Yeah, I guess I'm pretty lucky." When I chance a surprised glance at him he and Boston are sharing some kind of nonverbal communication.
"You two are so weird." Adriana chimes in. "You two are doing that thing that our parents do. That nonverbal brainwave chitchat. It's fucking weird. Cut it out."
"Don't be jealous that people can speak without opening their mouth every five seconds."
"Oh screw you, Tor."
"That's incest— so no."
"You're fucking gross."
"Where's your guard, anyway? You know, so you can actually have someone proper to screw."
"I'm stuck with Thomas tonight, if you must know." She grimaces and then skulks in her chair. "He ruins all my fun. Such a doorknob. I can't stand him." Her eyes flicker to mine mischievously. "Brooks is back, though. So maybe I could have someone proper to screw after all." The hellcat looks like she'd be up for the challenge. That hungry gaze has me looking down at my empty plate automatically.
"Go anywhere near him and I will personally lock you in your fucking room until our parents get back. I'll fire the guard you're messing around with too." There's that possessiveness. It would appear Denver was right about Torey's feelings regarding things he perceives as his.
"I heard you say something about dessert?" I'm thankful for Boston changing the topic, not wanting to be the source of sibling rivalry. "If it's ready I could go for some."
"Yes!" The word shot of of my mouth in the same manner I shot out of my seat. "Dessert."
✩✩✩
"I can't stand that movie. It's such a fake portrayal of the military. Drives me nuts."
"Okay so then what do you want to watch?"
"I don't care, Tor. You can watch whatever you want. I'm tired as shit and probably going to pass out five minutes into whatever you put on."
"Shitty military movie it is!"
"Anything but that though, please."
"Nope." He clicks on the title which makes me snatch the controller out of his hand and exit out. "Hey, you said whatever I want!"
"How about the shitty mafia movie with all the sex?" I click over to the title.
"Ha ha ha. No." He reaches over but I hold it away from him. "You're just going to fall asleep so give me that fucking thing." He tries to snatch it from me again except where I have the controller has him grabbing ahold of something much more sensitive. He immediately lets me go and goes back to his side of the couch. We're both quiet for a moment, staring at the screen. "That didn't just happen."
"Nope." I toss the controller over to him no longer caring if it's the shitty military movie we watch or not.
A/N:
That just happened...
I'm at the 35K mark at this point and somehow need to write 5K more today... wish me luck. This marks the 17th chapter posted this month.