Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Rome
I need to stop. The moment the nickname left my lips, Chrissy’s face lit up and fell at the same time. I didn’t think the motion was possible until she did it, but there it was as clear as day. Her lips tilted into an invisible smile, and her eyes glossed over in a daze. Yet, her posture stiffened, almost like she was waiting for someone to walk in and catch us in the act.
I should know better. Zack is in the other room. Ash and Gwen are upstairs. What would they have thought if they caught me calling Chrissy Wildflower?
Looking over at her, I’m mesmerized by her. She embodies everything good in this world, even as she curses under her breath because she keeps dropping random ingredients.
“Are you just going to look at me, or are you going to help?” she bites out while wagging a wooden spoon at me.
“Tell me what to do, boss.” I stand at attention and salute her, earning myself an amused smile.
“Heat a pan on the stove for me and drop a tablespoon of butter in it.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Marching over to the refrigerator, I pull on the silver handle and grab a stick of butter. Fighting the desire to take the yogurt again, I close the door and glance around the kitchen for the pans.
“In the lower cabinet to the left of the stove.” Chrissy directs without looking.
Dropping to my knees, I grab a medium-sized pan. Following her instructions, I place it on the stovetop, drop a slab of butter on it, and turn the heat on.
“What’s next?” I ask while spinning around to face her again.
“Do you want fancy pancakes or boring pancakes?” Chrissy asks as she starts to dance to the music in her head.
“What are fancy pancakes?” I ask with a slight chuckle.
“You don’t know what fancy pancakes are? Oh, this is going to be great.” Chrissy jumps up and down as she approaches the fridge. “I’m about to blow your mind!”
“Chrissy, stop squealing!” Zack groans from the other room.
“Fuck off!” she hollers back, not caring about the level of her voice.
She beams when she looks back over at me. “Okay, mister.” Standing on the edge of her toes, she spins me around, grabs me by my shoulders, and escorts me to a stool on the other side of the kitchen island. “You’re going to sit right here.”
I plop on the stool while she goes back to the stove.
“And watch the master at work.”
I observe Chrissy as she chops up bananas to add to the pancake mix. My disappointment becomes evident because banana pancakes are not fancy. It’s only when she dumps half a bag of chocolate chips in the mix that I perk up. Watching Chrissy cook is comforting. She hums a familiar tune and sways to the rhythm as she flips the pancakes effortlessly. It’s not long before she has an entire stack set to the side, resting on a plate.
“Ready to have your mind blown?” she asks as she slides a dish across the counter with a neat stack of pancakes toward me.
The scent is heavenly—browned butter, melted milk chocolate, and ripe bananas. My mouth salivates as I patiently wait while she gathers a plate, utensils, and maple syrup.
Sitting next to me, she does a little shimmy, the kind of tiny dance a girl does when she gets food. “Go ahead,” she says with a sweet grin.
Drizzling syrup over my food, I cut a rather large piece and cram it into my mouth. My eyes flutter closed, and my head rolls back.
“Fuck,” I moan. “These are fancy pancakes.”
She must have some special ingredient hidden up her sleeves. There’s no way she only put bananas and chocolate chips in the mix. There’s also a hint of cinnamon, vanilla, and something I can’t identify, but it’s on the tip of my tongue. Swallowing the piece in my mouth, I quickly go for another bite, not caring about the syrup leaving the corners of my mouth.
“So, you like them?” she giggles.
Nodding my head, I let out a “Mhm.” Because that’s all I can do at the moment.
“You’re adorable,” Chrissy mumbles with a sweet smirk.
Pointing at myself, I feign shock, and she laughs. “Me?” I ask while finishing the food in my mouth.
“Yes, you.” She snickers while punching my arm. “Oh, god dammit.” She shakes her hand off, and I chuckle. “I fucking forgot already. Apparently, I didn’t learn my lesson last night.”
“Sorry, not sorry,” I tease.
Chrissy takes a bite from her food and continues to dance in her stool. How can she make such a simple gesture look so cute?
“I have a question for you.”
Yes, thank god. Please distract me from these thoughts.
“My mom used to make these when Zack and I were kids. Did your mom or dad have a special recipe they shared with you?”
I take it back. Can we go back to the distractions that were racing through my mind?
“No,” I mutter, my gaze automatically shifting away from her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean?—”
“It’s okay. I just prefer not to talk about my parents.”
The room falls silent, so quiet you could hear Pickles scratching at someone’s door upstairs.
“Zack and I got lucky with our mom and dad. Gwen’s parents don’t pay much attention to her. Ash and Max’s parents are toxic and secretive. I sometimes forget that not everyone grew up around rays of sunshine and rainbows.” Chrissy reaches over and squeezes my thigh. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s okay.” I force a smile and meet her gaze.
The light in her eyes dims, and the natural blush on her cheeks becomes more vibrant.
“It wasn’t always bad,” I start without thinking. “My mom used to make homemade pizzas. The dough and sauce were always from scratch. We would pick out our toppings and eat until our stomachs hurt.” Why am I telling her this? How is she pulling these memories out of me? A strange sensation of safety wraps around me.
Chrissy reaches for my hand and traces her thumb over mine.
She would never judge me, and I know so much about her. She can have this tidbit of information. Maybe then she’ll understand why I opt to stay alone and single. “It was only after she?—”
“Do I smell fancy pancakes?” Zack asks from the other room.
“Go back to sleep,” Chrissy yells, but he’s already on his way over.
“Don’t tell me what to do, woman.” Zack walks straight to the stack and moans when he places one in his mouth. Leaning his back against the counter, he perks up at the sight of me. “Hey, man. When did you get here?”
Chrissy removes her hand from my thigh. My muscles twitch from the sudden loss of contact. She runs her hands through her hair and rests her elbows on the counter.
“About an hour ago. You would have noticed if you weren’t snoring,” Chrissy answers for me.
“I don’t snore.” Zack defends himself before taking another bite.
“Yes, you do!” Gwen’s voice sounds from upstairs.
“Where did you come from?!” Zack shouts so she can hear him.
“Your nightmares!” She cackles like a villain.
“Do you see what I have to deal with?” Zack asks me.
I throw my hands up, look down at my plate, and then pick up my fork.
“I’m going to plead the fifth and eat these fancy pancakes.” My tone lightens, like the dark conversation Chrissy and I were just in the middle of didn’t happen.
“See, Rome is smart. Take a few lessons from him,” Chrissy lectures while pointing her fork at her brother.
Another pair of feet slap on the floor, and it’s not long before Gwen strolls in wearing one of Ash’s hoodies.
“Oh, pancakes,” she says while pushing Zack out of the way.
“Hey!” he grunts.
“Fuck off, Willows,” Gwen threatens while picking up a pancake and eating it dry.
“I was here first.” Zack tries to grab the plate, but Gwen dodges his hands.
“I said fuck off . You’re so selfish.” Gwen bumps her shoulder into Zack, and it’s not long before they’re both fighting over the stack.
A smile spreads across my face as I watch the two of them. It must be nice to have a sibling, or in their case, someone who is like a sibling. It was only me growing up; being an only child isn’t what it’s all cracked up to be.
“I’m here if you ever want to talk,” Chrissy whispers as the two knuckleheads across the way bicker.
With a grim smile, I nod at her. “I appreciate that.”
I wish I could take her up on that offer, but I’ll only bother her if I do. Sometimes, the past is meant to stay in the past. And my secrets are meant to remain secret.