Page 42 of Still The One

‘Thank you for not listening outside the bathroom door this morning,’ I say, making my way into the kitchen and sitting down at her tiny kitchen table.

Eve chuckles a melodic sound that fills the cozy kitchen. She places a steaming cup of coffee in front of me, the aroma instantly invigorating my senses.

‘You only need to tell me once,’ she replies, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. Her smile is infectious, and I can’t help but feel a warmth spreading through me despite the throbbing headache. ‘It took me a few to remember how you like your coffee, but I think I got it? Heavy on the cream and sugar, aggressively stirred.’

I laugh at her ‘recollection’. I take a sip of the strong, rich brew, feeling its comforting heat soothe my insides.

‘It’s perfect. Just like?—’

‘Don’t finish that sentence,’ she says, shaking a wooden spoon at me.

‘Right,’ I say shamefully. ‘I almost forgot – no flirting.’ I repeat her rule as I glance around the kitchen. This is the first morning where I’ve felt alive enough to leave her room. Her apartment isn’t exactly as it was the last time I saw it, but some things are. Like the mismatched mugs hanging from hooks above the sink, each telling a story. The shelves are packed withcookbooks, spices, and quirky vintage kitchenware – those were all there before.

‘So.’ She sits at the chair across from me. ‘I figured after breakfast you and I would go on a walk around the third floor to get your blood pumping.’

I groan, but nod because I know it’s going to happen.

‘Movement is the key to healing,’ she says, frowning at my lack of enthusiasm.

‘You medical folk are dedicated to your talking points. When do I get to rest?’

‘When you’re dead,’ she says with a grin. ‘Seriously, Fost, exercise will help reduce your pain, increase your range of motion, and enhance your overall mobility. If you want to get back to that bike, you better get on board.’

I scrunch my face, running my one good hand over it. ‘You gotta bring my bike into this? I’m trying not to think about her.’

‘Her?’ She laughs, sipping from her pastel purple pottery turned coffee mug, the letter E front and center.

I sigh, slightly embarrassed to have to explain this to her for the second time. The first being when she and my bike first met. ‘You know I consider her sexy as fuck, only trumped by one other girl.’

This gets a full-out laugh from her. ‘If you had to rate us both…?’

‘No,’ I cut her off. ‘I will never answer that question. At least not right this second. It’s too soon.’

‘Too soon for what?’ she asks, her tone interested, to say the least.

I shake my head, and motion to zipping my lips and tossing the key.

‘OK, OK,’ she says, standing from the table as she rolls her eyes playfully. ‘No more questions about your other girlfriends. Are you hungry?’

‘Famished,’ I admit.

‘Perfect, because I’ve been up for two hours and figured I’d make breakfast.’

‘You made breakfast?’

She nods, pulling a plate from the oven and setting it in front of me.

‘I did. French toast with fresh blueberry compote, complete with butter and powdered sugar. Orange juice, low pulp. And bacon, extra crispy.’ She grabs a slice of bacon from my plate and munches on it, before setting it before me and meandering to the coffee maker and filling another mug.

‘Aren’t you going to eat with me?’

‘I ate while I cooked. It’s my bad habit. But I figured we could catch up after you eat, on our walk.’

Our walk. I’d nearly forgotten after she mentioned my bike. Without waiting, I try her French toast and drop my head back in shock. ‘Sweet baby Jesus. Why aren’t you the head chef at that hospital?’

Eve’s grin widens at my reaction to her French toast, a glint of pride in her eyes.

‘If they served great food, nobody would ever want to leave,’ she says.

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