CHAPTER NINETY THREE: A DISH BEST SERVED COLD

I am sore. Sore all over. But it was worth it. I wake up, my body entangled with theirs in Kale’s bed big enough to house all three of us comfortably. They sleep heavily, allowing me to take in their fresh morning looks.

I definitely had a type. The pink lips, the olive skin, the curly and waving dark hair. Both of them are sculpted differently but attractive all the same. I sigh in content.

Lately, they had been taking care of me, now it was my turn to do so for them. I am not the type to cook breakfast. It’s not that I can’t, it was just something I didn’t even need to do to myself. I always kept to this fast routine, but today nothing was claiming attention.

I would make something as great as Shane’s omelets, but I could handle bacon and eggs. I searched through Kale’s fridge, seeing nothing but leftover take out and frozen dinners.

I could just order food from the kitchen, as he does. That was the plus of having a large condo in a shared space. The way the extremely rich live