“OK!” Drea exclaimed. “Can we please stop saying ‘hot, wild, monkey sex’? Not that I’m having any, but even if I were, not the conversation I want to have over family breakfast. Or at any point with any of you.”
“So, moving on,” Miller said, folding up his paper, looking exceptionally uncomfortable at all the sex talk. “Dalton held court with quite the blonde audience last night from what I saw, so, Drea is all clear.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Prage were not the last ones standing, by the way,” Vaughn interjected.
“Damn it,” Miller cursed. He got up from the table and walked over to the oven, pulling out the French toast he’d been keeping warm in there. He brought it back over and set it on the table.
“But they were second to last, so I say we give it to you,” he continued. Murmurs around the table agreed. “They were second to none other than that weird redhead couple. In fact, I think the Prages would have stayed longer, but they were trying to give them privacy for their argument.”
“But did chairs fly?” Grayson asked. He grabbed a plate as he glared at Simone. He grabbed a few slices of the French toast and started eating.
“YES!” Simone hollered, raising her arms in victory.
“Well, slow down, babe. It depends on your definition of chair.”
“Excuse you, no, it does not. Furniture flew, that is what matters!”
“What?!” Grayson said with his mouth full.
“She picked up a chaise lounge and tossed it in his direction. Since it’s so much bigger than her she had some trouble getting any air.” Vaughn grabbed two plates and served himself and Simone, before passing the serving utensils to Drea.
“Damn, I missed some good stuff,” Drea said, plating some food. “I think a chaise lounge counts, Uncle Gray. Sorry.”
“Yeah, so unless you can prove a staff hookup, you’re wearing the shirt!” Simone teased, pointing her finger straight at Grayson.
“Um, hello, am I the only one who remembers that we totally skipped over Vaughn here?”
“Well, the one blonde gave up on Dalton pretty quick and headed over to the group of gym rats, so I think that one is pretty much a given,” Miller stated. “Sorry man, you’re wearing the shirt.”
Just as Grayson was exhaling a sigh of resignation, Kyle walked into the kitchen. His head was down, like he was trying to keep a low profile, but Drea’s heart skipped a beat anyway. He looked up at the table as he neared, making eye contact with her right away. Her heart started to speed up. He was wearing his usual work attire, so he at least made a stop at home, she noticed. Maybe they didn’t hook up? She stopped eating and tried to catch her breath as he opened his mouth to say something.
“Sorry to interrupt family breakfast—”
He was cut off by Grayson. “Dude, you didn’t happen to hook up with anyone last night, did you?”
“What? No! No, no. I slept in my own bed, promise!” Kyle said, waving his hands back and forth, looking mortified. Drea let out a sigh of relief she hoped no one heard.
“Fuck,” Grayson said. “Where’s Dalton, he won’t let me down.”
“Um, no idea.”
“Sorry, son, Gray’s just upset he’s gonna have to wear the shirt,” Miller explained. “Please, sit, have some breakfast.”
“No, no, I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not intruding, you’re part of this family,” Vaughn added. “We should really get you in on the bets.”
Kyle stood there for another moment, awkwardly, not sure how to proceed. “Um, yeah, sure, sounds like fun. Anyway, I just wanted to grab Drea for a moment after you guys finish up.”
“Kyle, just sit,” Drea said, smiling. “If you don’t eat, you know Uncle Miller will hunt you down.”
“She’s right, son. Sit.”
He did as he was told, and took the plate that Drea made up for him. They all ate in companionable silence for awhile, and then made their way to do whatever it was that their mornings held for them.
“Got a sec?” Kyle asked as they moved their plates over to the dishwashing area.
“Sure,” Drea answered. “We can go hang in Leona’s office.”
