Chapter 5

Tor POV

As soon as Aiden's gone, I get up and dump the coffee he made and start a new pot. He always makes this expensive Colombian crap that's way too strong and it makes my heart jump around for the rest of the morning.

"Did you sleep in my shirt?" I ask.

She flips the omelette in the pan and peeks at me from behind the veil of messy golden hair falling over her face.

"Maybe..."

Scowling, I take two plates out of the cabinet and set them next to the stove for her. 

"Kenz... I had that on while I was working on a bike yesterday. It's probably got grease on it. And sweat."

Shrugging, she transfers a perfect omelette onto one of the plates. 

"You can have that one. And so what? I like it. It's cozy."

"It's dirty."

She laughs. 

"Cozy. Dirty. What's the difference? I like how it feels and smells."

Her liking the feel and smell of cozy and dirty while she's wearing nothing but my shirt is not something I should be thinking about. But I do, for a quick second, before I bury it deep in that place in my chest with the other thoughts I don't let myself think about.

Like the thoughts that Elara should have been mine.

And the thoughts that I wish I had a chance to say goodbye to my father.

And the thoughts that I should have been there to help my brother.

And the thought that I should have tried harder with Sydni years ago.

And let's not forget the thought that I should have stayed in the band.

So many regrets.

I wait for her to sit with me at the table before I cut into the omelette, because my mom raised me with manners, and high on that list is you don't start eating until everyone is seated at the table.

"So... you had yourself a little binge last night?" Her eyes dance as she chews and swallows. "What brought that on?"

"Just in a bad mood, I guess. It's not going to be a habit."

"A bad mood named Sydni or a bad mood named Lisa?"

"Eat your breakfast. And both."

"Neither one of them are worth drinking over, Uncle Tor. You want to turn into a drunken mess again?"

I glare at her for bringing that up. A few years ago I had what you might call a drinking problem, but I'll never go down that road again.

"Not gonna happen."

"Good. Because I'm older now and I'm armed with a cell camera and I*******m. I'll document all your embarrassing drunk moments."

"I'm sure you would, brat."

She tilts her head at me, chewing her lip, and I know that look all too well. It means she's thinking about asking or telling me something. I brace myself, because Kyra saves all her deepest and craziest conversations for me. 

"Chloe thinks I should give up my V-card to Jason." She finally says.

I choke on my coffee.

"Chloe should keep her mouth shut. And her legs." 

Christ. I'm totally not prepared for this conversation, especially hung over. I was expecting her to want tattoos or nose piercings, or maybe purple hair to match her socks. But not sex.

"Why? I'm seventeen. Almost eighteen. Maybe she's right."

I wipe my mouth. 

"She's not."

"How old were you?"

"When?"

"Your first time."

"That's different, I'm a guy."

"Well how old was she, then? The girl you did it with?"

Fuck.

"Kenz, you should only be doing that when the time is right. With the right guy."

"I know... but what if the right guy never comes?"

"He will." As I sit here still single at thirty-two. "You're young, just enjoy your life and don't worry about sleeping with guys. Your father will have a shit fit if he hears you talking like this. You want to give him a heart attack?"

She rolls her eyes. 

"He still thinks I'm five."

"So do I."

She kicks me under the table. 

"No, you don't. You're not nearly as bad as him. And my mom had to be about fourteen, obviously, when she started having sex."

"I think you should talk to your grandmother about this. Or your aunt? Maybe Rayne? Someone of the female persuasion?"

Her nose crinkles. 

"Nah. I'd be too uncomfortable talking to them."

"But not with me?"

She shakes her head. 

"I like talking to you. You listen to me and you don't judge me."

"I'm flattered. But I'm the last fucking person to be giving relationship or sex advice."

I lean back in the chair and push my empty plate away. I can't think about Kyra having sex. My brain is way too mangled up with visions of her as a little girl and the glimpse of her half-naked ass I saw a few minutes ago. She's growing up too fast. It seems like just yesterday I was babysitting her. Now she's asking me questions about sex and looking less like a little girl and more like a woman. It's confusing as hell, and I have no idea how Aiden is dealing with this shit.

"Most of the girls I know have had sex already, way before they were seventeen. With a few guys, even. Not at the same time, though... At least I don't think so. You know what I'm saying, right?" 

She pauses and I nod, dumbfounded and at a loss for words. 

"I don't feel that way about any of the guys I've dated, though. I don't even like kissing them," she plays with her napkin and doesn't look up at me. "Do you think maybe there's something wrong with me? Why don't I feel anything yet?"

I suppress the laugh and relief I feel. 

"No, Angel. I think you're fine."

"Really?"

"Really. You'll feel it when you're ready and when it's the right guy. You can't force it. It should mean something, ya know? Especially your first time. Don't do it just because fuckin' Chloe says to. Just be you, like you've always been. Don't cave to pressure now. That's never been you."