Series Starter Firsts in Series Collection - Kaylee Ryan Page 0,274

on the new album. Last night provided me with a completely new outlook on the dynamics of the group. It also increased my respect for all four of them. They’re goofballs on the best of days, but they dedicate 110 percent of themselves to their music.

I decide to make cinnamon French toast. I’m standing at the stove, waiting to flip the first batch, when I feel strong hands grip my waist and scruff scratch the side of my face.

Kacen.

“Morning, beautiful,” he says as he places a tender kiss on my cheek.

At a loss for words, I stand still as a statue, waiting to see what he’ll do next.

Keeping his hands on my hips, he leans over my shoulder. “French toast. It smells incredible.”

His words are soft and spoken next to my ear. His voice is gruff from lack of use. It sends tingles throughout my body. Not to mention that he’s pressed tight against me.

“Th-Thank you,” I stutter. I swallow hard and try again. “This first batch is almost ready.”

“Damn, Logan! Can you just move in? Waking up to your cooking could spoil a guy,” Gavin says, joining us.

“Might not be a bad idea,” Kacen whispers.

I’m shocked, not only by his words, but how he’s acting with me today. Yesterday was just an . . . off day, with the run-in with Daniel and deciding to stay here, at least until Stacy gets home. Today, I’m at a loss. I don’t know why he’s acting like this. Like we’re together. It’s confusing and it’s hard for my head to control my heart when he’s standing this close.

“Go ahead and sit. I’ll bring it to you,” I say, flipping the first batch of toast. I don’t look over my shoulder at him. I just keep my eyes trained on the griddle.

“Can I do anything?” he asks.

“Nope. I’m good here. Just go take a seat and I’ll make you both a plate.”

“You don’t need to wait on us.”

“I want to, now go.” I wave the spatula in the air, hoping he takes the hint.

He does, but not before kissing my cheek. “Thanks for breakfast,” he says, then releases his hold on me and joins Gavin at the table.

I try like hell to ignore my body’s reaction to him. I focus on breakfast. The first batch of French toast is done. I plate it, sprinkle on some powdered sugar, and set a plate in front of each of them. I know it won’t be long before Tristan and Cole come wandering in, so I keep cooking. I make them both a plate and just finish sprinkling the powdered sugar when they walk into the kitchen. Tristan is rubbing his eyes and Cole is wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. His eyes are not even half open. They both plop down at the table. I carry their plates and slide them in front of them. They both mumble what I think is “Thank you” as I walk back to the stove.

“What the fuck, man?” I hear Kacen’s voice. I don’t turn around. I just keep working on my next batch.

“What?” Cole answers.

“Where in the fuck are your clothes?” Kacen says through gritted teeth.

“I—” Cole tries to speak, but Kacen cuts him off.

“You don’t need to be walking around in front of her like that. What the hell, man? You knew she was staying here. Hell, you knew she was cooking breakfast. Why the fuck didn’t you get dressed?” he seethes.

“Didn’t think about it,” Cole mumbles. I imagine he just shrugged his shoulders as well. I don’t turn around to see. I just continue to cook.

“If you’re going to stay here, you need to wear fucking clothes,” Kacen spits out.

“Dude,” Tristan says.

“What? He’s practically naked.”

Okay, I’ve heard enough. Turning to face the table, I say, “Kacen, it’s not like he has something I’ve never seen before. He’s covered. None of you should have to change your ways just because I took advantage of your generosity. Besides, I’ve seen Cole in his underwear before.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. “What the fuck? What do you mean you’ve seen him in his underwear before?” he asks.

“Hello? I’m here five days a week all hours of the day. I’ve run into all of them at one point or another, well . . . except you.”

Kacen runs his fingers through his hair. I can see his wheels turning as he processes what I’ve just told him. Pushing back from the table, he comes to stand in front