Page 88 of No Mistakes
“And what is that?” She tilts her head.
I grin, leaning close to her, “Hmm, well, it tastes divine, like an addiction I never want to get rid of.”
“And?” She asks, her body more awake as she wiggles underneath me.
“It’s sweet, warm…” I trail my lips along her jaw, watching her shiver. “… andabsolutelynecessary in the morning.”
She arches an eyebrow, biting her lip. “Necessary?”
I grin against her skin, then whisper, “Yes…like…coffee.”
Her eyes snap open just as I push myself up, hopping off her. She sits up quickly, hair tousled as she scowls at me.
“Coffee?” she repeats, mocking glare. “Really,Axel?”
I chuckle, grabbing a shirt off the chair. “Yep. Coffee. And now, get moving.”
She groans, throwing a pillow at me. “Piss off,” she mutters, but the corners of her mouth betray her, showing me she’s not mad.
I shake my head, still grinning. “Yeah, sure. But I’ll be downstairs waiting… and so will breakfast.”
I back away before she can launch another pillow at me, closing the door with a quiet click. Waking her up without food ready is one thing; waking her up with the promise of food and failing to deliver would be a death sentence I’m not ready to face.
The house feels colder downstairs, shadows stretching long across the walls in the early hour as the lights from the porch seep inside through the frosted windows, next to the door. The faint tick of the grandfather clock in the hall keeps time with my footsteps.
I turn the corner to the living room, spotting Flynn already here, hunched over the coffee table with the map spread open. His eyes are locked on it until he notices me, his expression flicking from focus to something lighter. “Morning.”
“You’re up early,” I say, dropping into the chair opposite him. The cushions swallowing me whole.
“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.” He exhales, like the weight on his chest is heavy enough to crush his ribs.
“Wanna talk about it?”
He pushes the map away, leaning back in the armchair until the front legs lift slightly off the ground. “It’s just… part of me hoped we could’ve left this life behind, y’know?”
I lean forward, elbows resting on my knees, watching him avoid my eyes like the map might still give him answers if he stares hard enough, as if it might give him a way out.
“That’s the thing about this life, Flynn,” I say quietly. “It doesn’t care about what you hoped. It only cares if you’re ready.”
He snorts, but it’s humourless. “And are you? Areyouready to dive back in like nothing happened?”
I shrug, stretching my legs out like we’re talking about the weather and not our lives. “I’m ready to do what has to be done. And so are you.” I tilt my head at him. “Don’t start doubting now, it’s a bad habit.”
His jaw works like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drags a hand down his face and mutters, “Just feels like every time we think we’ve got a shot at something better, it slips.”
“Better doesn’t just show up,” I tell him. “You take it. Or you don’t get it at all.”
For a moment, the room stays quiet except for the clock ticking and the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen. I let him sit with it, because sometimes words only stick when they’re left to sting.
Finally, I push up from the chair. “I’m making coffee. You want some?”
Flynn gives me a half-smile, “Yeah. Black.”
I head into the kitchen and press start on the coffee machine. Eva preps it every night before we go to bed, making our mornings as easy as possible.
I pull a pan from the cupboard, ready to make my girl some eggs for breakfast. It’s the kind of morning where the cold air feels sharper, like the whole world’s holding its breath. We’ve got a long day ahead of us, and I want everyone fed, awake, and ready before we leave for the plane.
The machine hisses and gurgles, filling the kitchen with the smell of fresh coffee. I lean against the counter, yawning while I wait for it to finish. My eyes drift to the window over the sink, and I watch as the stars gleam against the dark sky.
