Page 42 of The Rogue

“That’s right, you moved everything. Um…the one underneath it.”

I shut the top one and open the one below. “Cane sugar, powdered sugar, maple syrup, peanut butter.”

“That one.”

I place it on the counter. “Now what?”

“Grab a spoonful and eat it.”

“What? No.”

“You allergic?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

I stare at the jar like it’s growing mold. “I don’t like the consistency.”

“Tessa, you were up at four o’clock this morning, worked out for an hour, and had berries for breakfast. It’s either that or an omelet. You’re not going anywhere until you refuel.”

My eyes dart to my coffee mug.

“Coffee doesn’t count.”

I yank open the drawer and pull out a spoon. There’s a beat on the other line as I dip the tip into the creamy substance.

“More.”

“Wh—are you watching me from somewhere?”

“You’re stubborn. Call it a hunch.”

I suck on the spoon. “This was not in my contract,” I say, my tongue sounding like it’s been burned.

There’s a smirk in his voice when he responds. “Have a fine day.”

I grunt and hang up.

“Was that Dad?”

“Did you find the remote?”

“No. We could just look for it later.”

I rub my eyes. “It's going to bother me all day.”

Twenty minutes later, I find the damn thing stuffed into the pocket of an oversized sweatshirt.

“Oh, right.” Jackson flashes me an innocent smile.

“Alright, shoes on, let’s move.”

“There she is.” Aiden’s grin is wide as he comes around the bar with his arms extended.

My smile in return is hesitant.

“Come here, let me give you a proper hello.”

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