I Stole the Alpha's Car (18+)|✔️

Chapter 8

The passing shriek of an ambulance woke me in the grey light of dawn. Behind my eyes, the sour heat of a hangover pulsed and throbbed. I wanted to crawl under the blanket and die, but before that happened, I desperately needed to drink some water.

I stood and immediately regretted it. Sharp, stabbing pains seemed to split my temples apart. As I tiptoed to the kitchen, I started to seriously hope that Jess and Tori owned an ice pick to put me out of my misery.

Finding a cup in the cabinets, I filled it from the tap. The first glass tasted like pure, glacial bliss. The second started tasting like my own bad breath.

I need a toothbrush. However, I also didn't want to dig around in places I didn't have permission to be. I'd have to wait.

However... I glanced around. Jessica had given me permission to cook.

Pulling open the fridge, I inspected its contents, running them against my mental inventory of possible breakfast recipes. When I saw the mostly full carton of eggs, I went to check for bacon or maybe ham – they had neither. But, they did have feta cheese, a bag of spinach and a colorful assortment of vegetables.

Not my preference, but it'll do.

I was disappointed to find they didn't have a pie pan. You didn't have time to make a decent quiche crust anyway.

They did, however, have a gorgeous set of cast iron skillets. Sighing with jealousy, I picked out the largest. I'd have my own kitchen eventually, but in the meantime, I couldn't help but imagine filling it up with all my favorite tools.

I set the oven to preheat, then found a mixing bowl and started cracking the eggs, whisking them together with some table cream, the feta cheese, and a pinch of salt.

Once I finished, a minute's search gained me a cutting board and knife, and I began dicing orange bell peppers and red onion and tossing them in the skillet. A drizzle of olive oil, a sprinkle of salt, and it went on the stovetop.

While those sauteed, I quartered a handful of cherry tomatoes and minced a couple cloves of garlic. Tossing those in with some chopped chives, I stirred.

When the garlic started cooking, I had to pause and inhale the aroma, my smile spanning from ear to ear.

All I ever really wanted was a warm kitchen, a warm bed, and Evan. Had that been so much to ask for?

My smile turned bittersweet, and I dumped in the spinach, cleaning up the cutting board while it cooked down to almost nothing.

He's not your mate, Lauren.

I gripped my hands into fists and leaned over the counter.

He's not my mate.

And I'm not his.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to breathe through the sudden tightness in my chest.

Somewhere out there, Evan had a mate. Someone who would make him happy, someone who would be his everything.

And it's not me.

Opening my eyes, I muttered, "The vegetables are going to burn," and pulled myself upright.

Stirring and salting one more time, I poured the egg blend on top of the vegetables and mixed before setting it on the middle rack of the oven. While it cooked, I did dishes and brewed coffee.

Eyeing the skillet through the oven window, I heard movement from down the hall.

"Lauren?" Tori asked, rubbing her eyes as she walked into the kitchen.

"Yep. We're about two minutes away from frittatas. How do you take your coffee?"

Her eyebrows raised, but she rolled with it. "Cream, no sugar please." Turning around, she called, "Babe? We're having frittatas!"

Jess walked to the end of the hallway, looking distinctly green in the face. "Awesome. I'm going to go puke, but I'll brush my teeth and be right out."

Tori turned back to me, shaking her head. "I try to tell her we're not twenty-one anymore, but does she listen?"

I smiled, handing over her coffee. "Hey, would you happen to have a spare toothbrush?" I gestured to my mouth, "there's a situation happening in here that needs to get taken care of."

Tori nodded, "I'm going to go check on Jess, but I'll leave it on the counter, 'kay?"

I gave her a thumbs up and sipped my coffee.

Tori picked up one last fallen bit of pepper with her fingers and popped it in her mouth. "You know, however your situation ends up, your partner's going to be a lucky man."

"Mmm." Jessica finished off her last bite. "Fuck that – Tori, get ready for a sister wife. I'm about to propose."

Tori rolled her eyes and looked up at me. "Before you say yes, you should know that she snores."

I chuckled, "So, I'm getting the feeling that you liked it?"

Their nods were enthusiastic and immediate.

"Okay, what are you feeling like for dinner?"

Jessica glanced over at Tori and shrugged. "Chef's choice."

I leaned back, sipping on my coffee. "Hmm... Is there a grocery store I can walk to?"

Tori nodded, "Yeah, there's a couple smaller ones. I could drive you if you want?"

"Don't forget, there's the farmer's market at Fells." Jess added

"Oh, nice!" I brightened, "but I think I do want to walk. You know, clear my head?"

"Sure," Tori glanced over toward the door. "Remind me to give you some of our shopping bags."

"Also," I began, "would you mind if I went and took a shower?"

Jessica shook her head, "I actually have to call dibs – work."

I looked to Tori, "Is it okay if I go after Jess?"

She nodded, and I started internally debating menu options.

Jess kissed her mate and walked back down the hall, "Thanks again for breakfast! I'll leave you a change of clothes on your bed, 'kay?"

"Please and thank you!" I replied.

Half an hour later and clean for the first time in days, I shouldered my purse and grabbed the bags Tori had pointed out earlier.

"Hey, I'm headed out!"

Tori looked up from her novel. "You have our numbers?"

"Yep!"

"Alright. Be safe, and if you smell trouble, call me immediately, got it?"

"I will!"

Outside, I oriented myself and retraced our steps from last night. The sky above was the truest June blue, and the air was warm, but gearing up for filthy late afternoon heat and humidity. I headed down to the farmer's market first – I like to get my food as close to the source as possible.

My phone vibrated in the pocket of Jessica's jeans, and I answered it, not thinking.

"...I didn't expect you to pick up."