Chapter Eight

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"If you burn my bacon Rosie, I swear I will pour ketchup all over your eggs" Cassie threatens, using the ketchup bottle to point threateningly in her direction, seeing her with a smile on her face pulls one over my lips too. "Who are you risking my bacon to text back anyway?"

Rosie's eyes flicker to me for a second, not that she has confided in me who has enraptured her attention, but the quick flicker of blue eyes has me wondering. Rosie's cheeks get rosy no matter what we talk about, but the flush of her cheeks the morning after her kiss with Jeremy flashes back into my mind.

"No one important" Rosie shrugs, tucking her phone into her back-pocket and turning back to Cassie's precious bacon, there's always a wave of pressure on whoever is cooking when Sophie isn't here.

She just has this strange kind of magic touch, none of us have ever been able to figure out what it is that makes her bacon and eggs better than everyone else's but we've stopped fighting it.

Imogen's plate clatters against mine as she slides off of the kitchen chair, our omelettes having been made before Cassie and Rosie even started their own breakfast. "Your bacon will be fine Rosie, Cassie's just picky" I grin.

"I am not" Cassie scoffs, "I'd cook for all of you if you would let me"

"Not a chance" Imogen laughs, "You and Hugo rival each other in the kitchen, and that's concerning because Hugo never had to cook because someone else always would"

Cassie's lips fold together, eyes narrowing. "At least I can bake without forgetting the eggs"

"Woah!" Rosie laughs, head tilted back in amusement as I slap my hand over my own mouth to smother the sound of laughter. "I forgot about that"

"I can't believe you brought that up!" Imogen groans, snagging Rosie's phone out of her back-pocket and running back around our side of the island. "Success!"

Her hand slaps against Cassie's in triumph, my hands curling around the white island to get a glimpse at the name on her lock screen as she comes running around the island. Abandoning their breakfast on the stove and trying to slap the phone away from Imogen's hands and our prying eyes.

My mouth drops open, her fast glance suddenly makes more sense and everything I didn't expect to see has come forward way faster than I think I can process. Hugo's at court and meetings all day, so this grand idea of him sweeping me up to fuck in my bed all afternoon has been destroyed.

Suddenly I'm grateful for that because Rosie has never been able to keep her adventures to herself, and that can only mean that what was just a hook-up has reeled her in unexpectedly. Seems Rosie and I are going through things at the same time rather unexpectedly, but I doubt the two of us are really look at the situations the same.

"Who's Jeremy?" Imogen grins, wiggling her eyebrows at the flushed girl who's phone is now pressed against her chest. "I haven't heard about him"

"Neither" Cassie nods, looking to me for the same answer that I cannot provide. It happens more now, although she steers clear of Mark as a topic, but her smiles are brighter, and her eyes come swollen from crying, happen less frequently.

I don't dare ask, reminding her of that pain but a part of me hopes- and I feel awful for it- that she cries less because she is no longer fighting a losing battle of trying to save someone who is okay as they are. Misogyny, self-importance and all.

I can only shrug, "The texting is new to me" Is the only thing I can come up with, "I just thought they kissed at that party the other week"

Now technically that part isn't a lie, and not something Rosie could deny even if she wanted too, the flush of her cheeks and the way her teeth dig into her bottom lip gives her away. Maybe it's now that I'm in a position of bending the rules and pushing past the lines we all previously drew, but it's easy to become more aware of people's love-lives when your own is in the same position.

The ArrangementOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora