Scrambled seems fair, considering that’s how my brain feels. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
He flashes me a smile and goes back to whisking. He sets the eggs off to the side and gets the bacon going while he melts some butter in a pan. It’s easy to see that he’s comfortable here when he opens the fridge and pulls out a gallon of milk. I don’t think I fully realized that he actually lives with me until this very moment. Something about the ease with which he moves around is startling. Not bad, just… I don’t know.
“Do you like your bacon crispy?” Nic asks, glancing over at me.
“I’m not picky.”
“You don’t have to be picky to have a preference.”
Well, I guess that’s true, but I don’t want to be difficult. “It’s not a big deal. Just however you like it is fine.”
Nic sets the milk down and fully faces me. “No. Tell me how you like your bacon, Eli.”
I set my shoulders, narrowing my eyes. “Why are you making this so difficult? Just make it how you make it, and I’ll eat it. It’s just bacon.”
Nic stares at me for a second. “I want to make it how you like it. If you don’t tell me, then I can’t do that.”
Now I don’t want to tell him even more. “Just make the damn bacon, Nicolas.”
He laughs. “Just tell me how you like it, Elliot.”
I gasp, outraged. “That’s not my name.”
“Oh?” Nic asks, eyebrows raised. “Not so fun when someone’s calling you something that’s not your name, huh?”
I groan. Oh my fucking God. “Fine. I like it crispy, but like mid-crispy. Not chewy, but not like burned either. It’s difficult to get right. Just make it however, and I’ll eat it.”
Nic flashes me a bright smile. “Good boy. Now, was that so hard?”
I think he means for the words to be teasing, to be a callback to our interaction two weeks ago. I’m sure he thought it would lighten the mood. It doesn’t. It makes the air around us so fucking thick I can hardly breathe. It makes my pulse skyrocket and my throat go dry. It makes my eyes drop to his mouth. Traitorous fucking organs. I nod because I don’t think I can make words.
Something flares in his eyes, but he turns quickly back to his task. I sit mute. I have no idea what I’d even say, and to be so honest, anything Icouldsay is probably not the right thing to say.
I watch as Nic cooks. He’s methodical, like he’s comfortable in all kitchens, not just mine. “Where did you learn to cook?” I hear myself asking.
“My mom. She was a big believer that everyone should know how to make at least a few basic meals. What about you?”
“Uncle Julian.”
That seems to surprise him. “Yeah? Julian cooks? I guess I hadn’t paid much attention.”
I nod. “Almost everything. Holden makes some things, and don’t get me wrong, the things he does make, he makes really well. He couldburn water, though, and if you tell him I said that, I’ll never speak to you again.”
Nic finishes up the eggs and takes them off the stove before grabbing two plates and dividing them up. “Your secrets are safe with me, Eli. All of them.”
His sentence feels a little loaded for an early morning breakfast, and even more so for a joke. Uncle Holden already knows my thoughts on his cooking. When Nic gets the bacon done, he places two slices on my plate and two on his, then grabs both plates off the counter. “You ready?”
I nod and hop off the counter, following him to the little breakfast nook I have by the window. When I bite into my bacon, I groan. How the fuck did he manage to cook it perfectly? “S’good,” I mumble around my mouthful. “How’d you cook it so good?”
He shrugs, but he looks pleased with himself. “I like my bacon the same way.”
I hum and go back to eating. No one ever makes my bacon the right way. Color me impressed. “Thank you for breakfast.”
Nic smiles, then goes back to eating. After he takes a couple more bites, he glances up at me. “After breakfast, go get showered and dressed. I want to take you out for boba.”
“Uh… okay.”
“Wow,” Nic says, blinking at me. “You didn’t even give me any snark.”