Page 18 of Splintered Desire

“One back and down,” Isaac says, taking pity on me, and instead of being annoyed, I listen because this is ridiculous.

I pull open the drawer he instructed me to, only to find a drawer full of…stuff.

“I need a knife, not a…” I reach in the drawer and grab something, anything. “A waffle maker.” I snap, annoyed with the turn this morning has taken.

Isaac chuckles, and I swear I feel my eye twitch. It’s the final straw. Starbucks it is. I push the drawer closed hard and huff in annoyance when it still closes slowly and quietly.

UGH!

“Move.” He nudges me out of the way, pulling the drawer open again and reaching in for…

“A tiny guillotine?” I ask, making a face because I can see how that would work, but why?

“Exactly,” he says, setting it on the counter and scooping up my bagel. I watch, unable to look away or protest as he tosses my bagel in and cuts it in half with ease. Not that it looked hard exactly, just… strange.

Isaac stashes the bagel slaughterer back in the drawer before pulling the toaster away from the back of the wall. Now I do open my mouth to protest, but I don’t get a word out before I decide to shut up and let him help.

The toaster has a screen, like my phone, but maybe even nicer if I’m being honest.

“Why must everything be so complicated?” I mumble, scrubbing a hand down my face as I think about what a learning curve living in this house is really going to be.

Maybe it’s not too late to just get my own apartment.

I peek at Isaac as he taps the screen with zero hesitation, as if he’s done this hundreds of times before, and I have no doubt he has. As if he can feel my eyes on him, he glances my way, raising a brow in question, but I look away.

No way will Jace and Kolson let me leave now. I just need to make it through the rest of my degree, and then I’ll be gone.

Isaac gestures to the toaster before he moves away, and I assume that means it’s all good, but what do I know?

“Thanks.” I force the word out, hating that I needed his help but grateful that it was him, not one of his brothers, in here to witness this.

He doesn’t respond, but I’m almost positive I see a hint of a smile on his lips before he turns away, though I can’t be sure.

My bagel pops, and I almost scream. I feel like he just put it in. How is it already done?

Whatever, I just need to eat and leave.

Thankfully, the plates are easier to find, and I already found the silverware.

Isaac makes his way to the fridge, and I watch from the corner of my eye as I butter my bagel. He grabs a yogurt tub, eggs, milk, and another flavor of creamer, stacking them all in his arms in a way I could never manage without them toppling to the floor. With his arms full, he simply pushes the doors closed with his foot before making his way toward me, and I quickly avert my gaze back to my food.

“There’s cream cheese in the fridge, you know,” he says as he passes behind me, his words hardly more than a whisper, but no less deep. I suppress the shiver, but I can’t stop the goosebumps that break out along my arms.

He’s going to be your brother, I remind myself.

Step-brother…

Fuck, I need help, like a shrink or something.

Isaac quickly sets everything down on the counter, not far from me, before he bends down, rummages around the lower cabinets, and, a moment later, comes up with a pan.

I can feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to look at him.

“You cold?” he asks after a moment, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to deny it. I’m not really, or at least not as cold as I had been earlier. No, I’m actually closer to overheating at this point. His comment seems out of place until I turn to look at him and see that his eyes are currently focused on my arm, where goosebumps still litter my skin.

“I forgot socks, and the floor is like fucking ice,” I tell him with a shrug.

It’s not a lie. The floor really is cold, though I’ve grown used to it now, but he doesn’t need to know that.