up cheery. I’m not hungry. I’ve done all of my homework—except for that damn English paper—and even moved onto the next assignments according to the course syllabi. While standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I realize I’m not stressed either. I know my truck is out front. I know if I walk out of this room right now, I can find food in the cupboards. I also know that I’m surrounded by people. They may not be the people I would’ve chosen, but even I can admit that seeing them walk down the hall at various times over the last couple of days made me feel less alone.
Which makes me about the saddest person alive. I’m glad to have my enemies near. Jesus. What is my life coming to?
I dress and head toward the kitchen with my bag in tow. I’m relieved to see that Lance is gone. I don’t even know how long he stayed on Saturday, only that I’m glad I didn’t stick around to hear any more bullshit come from his mouth.
“Good morning,” Wyatt says in an even tone. He’s dressed in a dark blue t-shirt, sleeves stretching over carved muscles. He has a perfectly tapered waist, jeans hitting him just right. And like a typical cowboy, he has a belt on with the t-shirt tucked into the front. The only difference with Wyatt is that his belt buckle isn’t flashy like you see some cowboys wear on TV. It’s a normal belt with a tame, silver buckle.
And the hat. Jesus. There’s just something about this guy in his hat. “Morning,” I say, almost forgetting that he greeted me.
He sips a glass of orange juice, perched on a bar stool at the island. “Mornings during the week are low-key. It’s a fend-for-yourself kind of venture,” he says, nodding toward the kitchen itself. “The cupboards are completely stocked. Cereal. Toast. Bagels. Oatmeal. I’m sure whatever you like to eat, we have it.”
Honestly, I... Wow. Fuck. I’ve never had a choice before. I always just ate what my dad bought or what was on the menu at school. Shame crashes into me. I’ve had oatmeal before. That must’ve been relatively cheap. Cereal? I’ve had that before, too, but not like those brands that are on TV. I’ve never had Lucky Charms or Frosted Flakes. Whatever we ate was off-brand and typically pretty bland, kind of like eating the desert floor. Oh, and no milk. We ate it with water.
For a moment, I just stand there, gazing at their huge kitchen. It may as well be a labyrinth to me. A puzzle made up to confuse people.
Wyatt’s gaze narrows. “You did hear me, right?”
I nod slowly and swallow. “Yeah, I heard you.”
I peek at him as he runs his hand across his chin. “Can I ask you a question, Dakota?”
I shrug. It’s not as if I can stop him, and even if he asks it, that doesn’t mean I have to answer. “Sure.”
“Do you like chocolate or fruit?”
It’s my turn to look at him strangely. He gets off his stool and goes into the kitchen. He starts pulling things out of the cupboard. A plate, a measuring cup, and some sort of cooking appliance.
He gazes over his shoulder when I don’t answer. “I know. You probably like both.”
“I do...” I say, letting myself trail off. Admittedly, my experiences with both are limited. I didn’t get treats or snacks when I was a kid. Or ever, actually.
Wyatt smiles. “I’m going to make you something that will blow your mind, Dakota Wilder.”
I lift my brows. “Yeah?”
He returns to cooking, chuckling softly to himself. I watch him work from where I’m standing, but then move closer. He whips up a batter that I realize is going into a waffle machine—the appliance he pulled out of the cupboards. Then, he grabs some fruit and Nutella. He chops up the fruit and when the waffle machine beeps. He places the waffle onto a plate, layers Nutella over it and then drops a sprinkling of strawberries and blueberries over the top.
“Hell yes!” a voice exclaims. “Hurry up, Stone! Wyatt’s cooking!”
I jump at the intrusion. I’d been salivating over the waffle and hadn’t even heard Lucas come in. I’m also not used to so much noise. My father was a quiet man when he was doing anything except for discussing treasure.
“Not for you two fuckwits.” Wyatt hands me the plate, and I take it with a smile.
I pass by Lucas to the barstools surrounding the island.