3. Sydney
C langing dishes and pans startle me awake.
“Shit.” I groan, voice hoarse with sleep. Rubbing a hand down my face, I blink my eyes rapidly until my vision focuses on the wooden beams running across the ceiling.
It takes me a second to remember where I am—on Wren’s couch, after a sleepless night of listening to her bang Kiernan.
My eyes are gritty and heavy, like they’re filled with sand, from lack of sleep. Stretching my arms and legs in opposite directions, I let out a loud yawn.
“Morning.” Wren’s sunny voice floats from the kitchen. I peer over the end of the couch; my big sister stands in front of the stove, dressed and ready for her day, bright red spatula in hand. Ever the morning person, she gives it a little wave, sunlight spilling through the window behind her, creating a halo around her mass of frizzy dark, wavy hair. Small tendrils curl to frame her face .
“Morning,” I say with another yawn. Man, I’m tired. The couch is comfortable enough, but my sister and her mate fucking half the night made it hard to get some decent sleep.
Spoiler alert: they went two more rounds, keeping me up most of the night.
Stumbling to my feet, I stretch my arms over my head, bowing my back, really working those kinks out after a night of fitful sleep.
I shuffle to the bathroom and take care of business before joining Wren in the kitchen.
“Whatcha makin’?” I ask, peering over her shoulder. A skillet is placed on one of the burners, batter bubbling on the hot surface.
“Pancakes! They’re Kier’s favorite. That man has a real sweet tooth. He uses half a bottle of syrup and adds a mountain of chocolate chips every time I make them.” Wren’s voice bubbles with laughter as she talks about her mate.
Flashing her a smile, I take a seat at the island, not sure how to broach the subject of their loud sex keeping me awake.
Another yawn slips out as Wren slides a steaming mug of coffee in front of me.
“Thank you,” I mumble, taking my first sip of the gods’ nectar. Coffee is life. I can’t function before at least one cup is coursing through my veins.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Umm, about that…” I trail off, running my finger around the rim of my mug, eyes lingering on the steam as it swirls in the air. Inhaling deeply, the familiar rich, earthy coffee scent grounds me .
“Oh no. Is the couch not comfortable? I slept on it for a few hours my first night here, but I haven’t really slept there since.” A slight blush covers the apples of her cheeks.
Yeah, Wren, I know where you’ve been sleeping… or not sleeping.
“The thing is—” I say softly “—you and Kiernan are kind of loud.”
My eyes dip to the dark-brown liquid in my mug.
“What do you mean? Does Kier snore? Huh, I guess I never noticed, but I usually sleep like the dead.”
“I can imagine,” I mutter, keeping the after being fucked into a coma part to myself. “Wren, you guys are really loud during sex!” I blurt, ripping the awkward Band-Aid off.
My sister’s face turns a shade of red comparable to a tomato. She clutches her imaginary pearls, letting out a sharp gasp. My own cheeks heat from secondhand embarrassment.
“Sorry, Wren. It’s just I was up half the night listening to you moaning and the bed springs squeaking and that damn headboard slamming into the wall.”
Her mouth gapes for a second before she slams it shut and clears her throat. “Syd, I’m so sorry. I guess we’re not used to having someone in our space. I didn’t realize we were so loud,” she admits, turning to the stove to flip a pancake. The pile on the plate next to her is enough to feed about ten people, not three. How much does Kiernan eat?
“Well, you kind of are,” I say, eyes boring into the contents of my mug like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Wren’s gentle fingers clutch mine, uncurling the fist I didn’t realize I’d made. I peer up into blue eyes, the same color as mine, laced with embarrassment and apology.
“I’m really sorry, Sydney. I can imagine that’s something you did not want to hear. We’ll try to abstain tonight… or at least be quiet,” she says, cheeks still flaming.
“Thanks, Wren. Can we maybe not tell Kiernan about this? I don’t want to go through this conversation again.” I flick my hand between our bodies.
She winks before returning to her spot in front of the stove, pouring another dollop of batter on the skillet. “You got it, sis. I was going to head over to the greenhouse after breakfast. Why don’t you stay here, take a nap, and come find me when you’re ready? It’s about a five-minute walk from here.”
I nod. “Sure, I saw it on my drive in yesterday. You really can’t miss it,” I say, recalling the main gravel road lined with a handful of cabins and a single glass greenhouse.
A plate piled with pancakes appears in front of me on the counter, followed by a bottle of maple syrup and an open container of peanut butter. My stomach growls audibly. Wren and I burst into giggles at the sound.
“Eat up!” she manages to squeak out through bouts of laughter.
After drizzling—okay, more like drowning—my pancakes in syrup and peanut butter, I cut a heaping forkful and shove it into my gaping mouth.
“Mmmmm. So good,” I mumble around the gooey, warm bite. The nutty taste of peanut butter clings to my tongue long after I swallow each bite .
Another giggle slips out of Wren as her gaze lingers on me over the rim of her coffee mug. Warmth shimmers in her eyes. I’m sure I look like a squirrel packing away nuts for winter as I smile at her with cheeks full of pancake and peanut butter.
“Love you, Syd,” she says quietly. “I really missed you these past few months.” She sniffles softly, taking another sip from her mug.
“Morning, ladies.” Kiernan’s low voice rumbles from the hallway. He saunters into the kitchen a few seconds later, dressed only in low slung athletic shorts. Rubbing his toned abdomen, a giant yawn rips from his mouth. “How’d everyone sleep?”
Wren winks at me before turning to face Kiernan.
“Just fine,” she says, pressing up on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. When she pulls back, there’s a slight flush on her full cheeks. Wren has always blushed easily, but she’s clearly affected by her mate. I’m so happy she found someone to love her the way she deserves, unlike her slimeball ex.
Kiernan grabs a plate stacked high with five or six pancakes before joining me at the island. He plops down on the stool next to me and begins preparing his pancakes.
I look on in fascination as he dips a butter knife into the Nutella jar, then proceeds to meticulously spread a thick layer of the hazelnutty goodness on each pancake. A bag of chocolate chips appears from somewhere. He sprinkles a handful of them on top of each Nutella coated pancake.
Stacking them back in a neat pile, he douses the whole stack in nearly half a bottle of maple syrup.
But he’s not done yet.
Wren hands him a can of whipped cream, which he uses to spray a heaping mound of sweet white fluff onto the stack.
He really does have a sweet tooth. I think I might have a cavity just from watching him.
“Bon appétit,” he declares, shoveling a huge bite into his mouth, moaning with pleasure. Picking my jaw up off the floor, I turn toward Wren, who simply shrugs before sipping her coffee.
“Do you eat like this every morning?” I question.
“Yeah.”
At least I think that’s what he says through a mouthful of pancakes and sugar.
“How are you so…” I wave a hand at his bulging biceps and exposed abdominal muscles. “That?”
Kiernan raises a confused brow, glancing down at his body. He chuckles, setting his fork on his plate. Chewing his last bite, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Shifters have exceptionally fast metabolisms. We have to eat a lot of food to maintain the muscle we have. Breakfast is the one meal where I let my sweet tooth run wild. I keep it in check the rest of the time.” His voice brims with laughter as he winks at me.
“Good to know,” I murmur, shoving another bite of pancake into my mouth. Meanwhile, I look at a piece of cake and gain five pounds.
“So, I was telling Syd that she can stay here and relax for the morning, then meet me at the greenhouse later.” Wren breaks the lull in conversation .
“Sure. You should work more on your painting from last night. It’s really good.”
“Thanks, Kier. A shower and a nap sound really enticing right about now, too.”
Finished with my breakfast, I wash my dishes before laying them to dry on the rack by the sink.
Leaving my sister and her mate to enjoy their food, I head to the bathroom for a long, hot shower. Hopefully Kiernan has an endless supply of hot water because I like my water just below scalding.
By the time I emerge from the bathroom, it’s like I’m a new woman. The heat of the water melted any tension out of my muscles from lack of sleep. Scrubbing the towel over the ends of my hair, I walk into a quiet living room. A bright pink Post-It stuck to my sketchbook catches my eye.
I weave my hair into a quick French braid, the end hanging to the middle of my back.
Birds chirp happily outside in the summer sky. Peering out the window, I watch them swoop and flutter above the treetops. The sky is so clear and blue here, not a cloud in sight. Inspiration ripples through my body and suddenly a nap seems like a waste of valuable painting time.
With my supplies in tow, I head out to the deck, ready to get lost in my art.