The Audience
The morning light was no longer a soft suggestion; it was a full-blown interrogation, highlighting every tangled sheet and discarded piece of clothing. I followed the scent of sizzling butter and coffee into the kitchen, my heart doing a strange little flutter at the sight of Nick.
He looked entirely too comfortable. Standing there in just his jeans, his back a broad expanse of muscle and ink, he was the picture of domestic peace. He moved with a quiet efficiency, flipping eggs as if he hadn't just upended my entire moral compass a few hours ago.
"Since when do you cook?" I asked, my voice still a little raspy.
He didn't even turn around, just leaned into the task with a smirk I could hear in his voice. "Since I got tired of takeout. Don't sound so surprised, baby girl. I can follow a schematic, whether it's a carburetor or a breakfast scramble."
I sat on the stool, resting my chin in my hands, letting the warmth of the room—and the man—settle into my bones. For a fleeting, beautiful moment, I let myself imagine this was just life. No city ghosts, no looming ultrasound appointments, no overprotective brother. Just us.
Then the front door slammed, and the bubble didn't just burst—it disintegrated.
"Bree? You home? I brought the good gossip and some overpriced lattes!"
Harper.
My blood turned to ice. Before I could even hiss a warning to Nick to put on a shirt—or hide in the pantry—the duo rounded the corner. Harper and Tessa walked in like they owned the place, only to stop so abruptly Harper nearly tripped over her own feet.
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. Harper's jaw didn't just drop; it practically hit the linoleum. Her sunglasses slid down to the tip of her nose as she stared at Nick—shirtless, barefoot, and very clearly at home in my mother's kitchen.
"Holy shit," she breathed, her voice a mix of awe and pure, unadulterated glee.
Tessa was more subtle, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes widening behind her glasses. "Oh... oh my."
I wanted to melt into the floor. I wanted to crawl into the toaster. "Oh my God," I muttered, burying my face in my hands as the heat in my cheeks reached a boiling point.
Harper didn't waste a second. A sharp, piercing shriek of laughter echoed off the tiled walls.
"You mean to tell me while we were over here worrying about your fragile little heart, you were in here playing house with the human mountain?
" She waved a wild hand toward Nick, who hadn't moved a muscle.
"The legend!
Anthony's best friend! The man who hasn't looked at a woman in this town for a decade! "
Tessa's cheeks were pink, but she shot Harper a look of mild reprimand. "Harper... maybe we should give them a second."
"Give them a second?!" Harper cackled, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Tess, this is gold! This is better than any soap opera I've ever seen. Look at him! He's making eggs!"
Nick, to his credit, didn't flinch. He didn't scramble for a shirt or look embarrassed. He calmly slid the eggs onto a plate, garnished them with a piece of toast, and set the breakfast in front of me with a steady hand. Only then did he turn to face the firing squad.
"You done?" he asked Harper, his voice dry and unimpressed.
Harper actually snapped her mouth shut. For three whole seconds, the undisputed queen of Willow Creek chatter was speechless. Then a slow, shark-like grin spread across her face.
"Bree," Tessa said gently, stepping forward to bridge the gap. "Is this... what it looks like?"
I couldn't even look at her. I kept my eyes fixed on the eggs. "I—I don't know what it looks like, Tess."
"It looks like you've been very, very busy, baby girl," Harper finished for me, her voice dripping with triumph.
Nick's lips twitched—a tiny, dangerous sign that he was fighting a smile.
I felt like I was standing in the middle of a highway with a semi-truck bearing down on me.
The "safety" of the morning was gone, replaced by the terrifying reality that my two best friends now held the keys to the biggest scandal in the county.
I didn't give them a chance to say another word in front of Nick. I grabbed Harper by the wrist—ignoring her indignant "Hey!"—and dragged her and a quiet Tessa down the hallway into the sanctuary of my bedroom.
I slammed the door and leaned against it, breathing hard.
"Bree, come on!" Harper laughed, flopping onto my bed like she'd just won the lottery. "Don't be mad. This is the best thing that's happened to this town since the water tower leak of '09."
"Shut up," I hissed, my heart hammering. "Do you want the whole town to know by lunchtime? Do you want Anthony to hear it while he's standing in line at the hardware store?"
Harper rolled her eyes, kicking off her sandals. "Yes, actually. I think everyone deserves to know that little Miss Good Girl is finally getting her back blown out by the hottest guy in a fifty-mile radius—"
"Harper!" I grabbed a pillow and launched it at her head.
She caught it, cackling loudly. Tessa slipped into the room, closing the door softly and leaning against the dresser. Her expression was a contrast to Harper's—soft, supportive, but deeply curious.
"We'll keep it between us, Aubrey," Tessa promised, her voice a calming balm. "We know what's at stake."
I sank onto the edge of the bed, burying my face in my hands. "Oh my God. This cannot be happening. This is exactly what I said we couldn't do."
"It is happening," Harper sang-songed, leaning forward with sparkling eyes.
"And honestly? I'm proud of you. Look at the man!
He's tall, he's muscled, he's got those tattoos that make you want to sin, and—most importantly—the man can cook a mean breakfast. Do you have any idea how long I've waited for you to stop choosing guys who look like they've never touched a wrench in their lives? "
"Harper, he's Anthony's best friend," I groaned. "The drama, the fallout... it's not delicious, it's a disaster."
Tessa sat down beside me, her hand warm on my arm. "Harper's right about one thing, though. You don't have to explain your happiness to anyone. You've been through a war, Bree. If Nick is the one making you feel safe... then that's all that matters."
The gentleness in her voice nearly broke me.
I blinked fast, the tears of the morning returning with a vengeance.
"You don't understand. Nick says he's not walking away, but how can I believe that?
What if Anthony decides he hates both of us?
What if Nick wakes up in a week and realizes he doesn't want to be a father to a baby that isn't his? I'm a mess, Tess. A total wreck."
"Bree." Tessa's voice was firm, pulling my hands away from my face. "He was in your kitchen. Making you eggs. Shirtless. That doesn't scream 'regret' to me. That screams 'I'm staying.'"
Harper snorted from the pillows. "It screams husband material, actually. Very rugged, very 'I'll chop wood and then rub your feet' material."
I let out a shaky laugh, wiping my eyes. "You two are impossible."
"Impossible," Harper echoed, grinning wider as she started humming a wedding march under her breath. "But we're right. Now... I want details. Was it as life-changing as the town legends say?"
I groaned, burying my face in the pillow, but for the first time that morning, the panic felt a little lighter. I had Nick in the kitchen, and I had my girls in my bedroom. Maybe, just maybe, I could handle the storm that was coming.