C7 Chapter 7

Avery

I skipped the stairs on my way to the kitchen.

Once I reached the doorway, I saw Carla standing by the stove while my dad sat at the breakfast bar.

Their presence halted my overzealous steps, and I tried to mask my glee before they asked why I was practically skipping around the house at noon.

“Hey, princess. You're early.” I heard my dad's teasing tone as he greeted me.

I rolled my eyes and replied, “Good morning to you too, Dad.”

Greeting Carla on my way as I made my way to the refrigerator.

“Do you want me to make you something for breakfast?” She asked.

I pursed my lips and waved her off, “Nah, I'm good with my cereals. Don't worry about it.”

My face was still buried in the refrigerator as I was trying to find the milk carton. When I was about to retreat and close the door, I saw Carla exchanging glances with my dad.

It didn't take a genius to understand.

Sighing, I put the carton back in the refrigerator and closed the door softly before turning to face her.

“Actually, I would really like some pancakes, if you will?” I asked, with my bottom lip trapped between my teeth.

An infectious smile graced her lips the moment she heard my request.

"Oh, absolutely, sweetheart. Take a seat. I'll whip it up real quick.”

And with that, she busied herself in the kitchen while I took a seat on the breakfast bar across from my dad.

I looked ahead to see my dad looking at me. I raised a questioning eyebrow at him, and he just smiled at me fondly. He gently squeezed my hand that was on top of the table before going back to reading his daily dose of finance and corporate news.

I wasn't a fan of Breakfasts.

But I knew she was trying to fit in. Trying to be one of us. Trying to get acquainted with her soon-to-be-husband's daughter.

And she was putting in effort. The least I could do was return her efforts. Especially for Dad.

I turned around and looked at Carla, who was busy with the pancake mixture. In just a week she had made herself so familiar and comfortable with this house.

With our house.

At some point, it scared me.

But I knew that as long as Dad was happy, I could find ease in all of this.

With a melancholic smile, as I remembered the days when there were just me and Dad doing our baking sessions in this kitchen, I turned my head back.

Maybe she can join us in our baking sessions.

The thought was weird, but not strange.

I shook my head and made myself busy with my phone. Scrolling through Instagram and reacting to the memes my best friend, Tyler, had sent.

I missed the punk.

“Here you go!”

A plate of four stacked pancakes with an assortment of berries, jams, and cream was placed in front of me.

My mouth fell open at the sight. When she told me she'd whip it up quickly, I didn't think that her quickly meant this!

She placed freshly squeezed orange juice before me and took a seat beside my dad with a plate of her own.

“Cmom, dig in!” She had a beautiful smile on her face as she encouraged me to have a bite.

“Thanks,” I said with a genuine smile and dug in.

Humming at the first bite. It was soft and creamy and melted in your mouth. It was sweet with a little bit of citrus in it.

I never thought pancakes could be made like this.

“Eat slowly,” Dad said, and I just grinned at him in return.

"Carla, Breakfasts are not my thing, but if you feed me this everyday, it might become." I said as I chewed on my breakfast.

Carla exchanged a fond look with him.

And when I saw his satisfied expression, I was glad I agreed to have breakfast.

I saw his hand disappear under the table while his gaze was still fixated on the newspaper. I spared a look at Carla and saw her smiling slightly at her plate while her left hand disappeared under the table as well.

Shaking my head, I concentrated on my breakfast.

They both needed to head to the farmers market to get some organic fruits, so as soon as Carla was finished with her breakfast, they left.

Which left me alone in the kitchen, scraping every bit of Nutella that Carla brought for me last minute.

While I was focused on my plate, I felt some movement in front of me.

Raising my eyes, I saw Liam walking inside.

But weirdly, he didn't seem to acknowledge me; he just moved past me to where the coffee maker was.

Did he not see me? Or he just decided to ignore me?

I raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

Maybe he thought that our parents were still around, that’s why he didn't say something.

With that in mind, I stood up from the chair and picked up my used utensils.

Taking them to the sink, which was just beside where he was standing.

I disposed them into the sink and turned on the tap to wash my hands. "So... last night was fun.”

From my peripheral vision, I saw him freeze for a second before he resumed his task of pouring his black coffee into his mug.

“Do you want to—”

“Avery. It cannot happen again. It was a mistake.”

"Okay, okay, wait—”

I looked at his back as he left the kitchen.

I stood there transfixed for a moment until I snapped back to reality.

“What's wrong with him?”

I thought to myself, furrowing my brows at the situation.

Last I remember, we were fucking like there was no tomorrow until the wee hours of the morning.

And what like, not even half a day passed since then, and he is telling me that it was a mistake?

While here I was thinking I'd ask him to hang out.

It's not like I'm a desperate whore or something!

Ok, maybe I am to some extent but sex is not the only thing on my mind Twenty-four-seven.

Well, then if he says it's a mistake, it is.

And if he doesn't want a repetition of it, it's his loss. I am not going to act like a desperate like a desperate slut and chase after him.

It's not as if I'm dying or something to sleep with him!