Chapter 34
The early morning sun streams through the windows as I move around the well-equipped kitchen. The aroma of simmering tomatoes and peppers fills the air as I prepare the shakshuka, poaching the eggs gently in the spicy sauce. Next to it bubbles the golden khachapuri, its melted cheese releasing an irresistible scent.
I smile to myself, feeling a new lightness after last night. The guys really came through, treating me like a teammate, maybe even a friend… and then definitely something more.
This breakfast is my way of saying thanks, and of acknowledging the way we’ve progressed to the next level, whatever that means.
As I chop parsley for garnish, I hear shuffling behind me. I glance back to see Jayden yawning, his hair endearingly mussed from sleep.
“Morning, sleepyhead. I’m just finishing up a special breakfast as a token of appreciation.” I say, unable to keep the grin off my face.
“Wow, Dylan, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble.” Jayden looks touched, his eyes widening as he takes in the spread.
“It was no trouble at all. You guys are… well, you’re all great.”
I plate the shakshuka and khachapuri with pride.
As we sit down to eat, the conversation flows easily. It’s so freeing finally feeling like I’m able to completely be myself. The lingering hurt and doubt of my past fade with each laugh we share.
I smile as Killian wanders in, his hair sticking up every which way.
“Rise and shine! I hope you’re hungry,” I say, sliding a piping hot plate of shakshuka in front of him.
He inhales deeply, eyes still bleary with sleep. “Mmm, smells amazing. Is today my birthday or something?”
I laugh. “Nope, just wanted to say thanks for being so amazing yesterday.”
His eyes soften. “Of course.”
Noah shuffles in next, equally disheveled and adorable. He perks up at the sight of food.
“Dang, Dylan! You trying to fatten us up or what?” He jokes, piling his plate high. “I wondered what that was. It smells divine.”
“Maybe! Gotta keep my guys well-fed,” I quip back, thrilled they’re enjoying my cooking.
The conversation flows easily as we eat, laughter and steaming mugs of coffee warming the kitchen. I truly feel like I fit in here—that I’m actually wanted—and it makes me more than a bit giddy.
As I clear the empty plates, Killian claps a hand on my shoulder. “You’re alright, Dylan. I’m glad you’re here.”
My heart swells. With food and friendship, we’re building something special.
I smile to myself as I start washing the dishes, the chatter and laughter of my teammates warming my heart. This feels right.
A knock at the door interrupts my musings. Noah jumps up to answer it.
“Hey Kai, what’s up?”
My heart just about stops at the mention of his name.
Kai steps inside, gym bag in hand. “Just dropping off that equipment you needed. Sorry to barge in on you guys.”
“No problem! We’re just finishing up breakfast. Care to join? Dylan made a mean feast. Shakshuka and… what was it again? Khacha- something?” Noah gestures to the remnants of food spread across the table.
“Khachaphuri,” I say, pressing my lips together, afraid of what else might come out of my mouth if I don’t hold back.
Kai glances at me hesitantly. I give him an encouraging nod. “Yeah man, plenty left over.”
“Well, in that case, don’t mind if I do!” He grabs a plate and digs in eagerly.
I find myself watching him, struck by his muscular frame and the intensity of his focus as he eats. He glances up, catching me staring, and grins.
“This is insane, Dylan. You can cook for me anytime.”
A warmth spreads through me at his praise. “It’s nothing, really. Just a little something I whipped up.”
“Are you kidding? This is restaurant-quality,” Kai insists.
The conversation drifts to rugby as we finish up.
“So, Dylan, tell us about your experience so far playing at this level. It’s intense, right?” Kai asks.
I nod. “Definitely. The training is grueling, the competition fierce. But it’s rewarding, you know? Like cooking, but with full contact and more tackling,” I joke.
The guys chuckle, but their eyes shine with interest.
I find myself opening up, sharing stories of tough coaches, early morning practices, and the thrill of playing in front of huge crowds.
For the first time, I feel my passion for rugby being matched by those around me. The bonds between us grow stronger with each shared experience.
Killian leans forward, his expression intent. “Seeing you play ...it’s clear you’re not just going through the motions. You’re making really innovative plays. Mad respect.”
A swell of pride rises in me at his words. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from you guys.”
We fall into an animated discussion about the similarities and differences between men’s and women’s rugby—training regimes, game strategies, team dynamics. The guys listen raptly, chiming in with thoughtful questions and observations.
I feel a heady rush, being taken so seriously for both my cooking and rugby skills.
These men aren’t just teammates or roommates. They’re becoming true friends, maybe even like the brothers I never had. Well, not brothers because… they don’t do things to you like these men did last night. I blush as the memories come flooding back.
As the meal winds down, the mood remains lively, but a deeper sense of connection hums between us.
Jayden grins at me. “You know, Dylan, you’re pretty cool for a roommate. Glad you ended up here with us.”
I return his smile. “Right back at ya. And if any of you ever want to learn how not to burn water, I’m your girl.”
We share a laugh as I start clearing dishes. A feeling of contentment settles over me. I hadn’t expected to find this—not just a place to live, but the beginnings of a real family.
In the warmth of this kitchen, surrounded by raucous laughter and the lingering scents of breakfast, I know I’ve found where I belong.