“Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, honey, how much longer do you have?” my mum asks, her face lit up by the sight of Riley’s stomach.
“Just over two months.”
“You must be so excited,” she comments. “Come and sit with us.”
“I really…”
“Just while you’re waiting for the others,” she says, curious. I can tell she’s dying to know who they are.
“Maybe just for a minute,” she says, sliding herself into the seat next to my mother.
“I’ll go and clear a table for you all,” I say, heading towards the O’Connors, with my stomach turning anxiously.
“Good morning, guys,” I say, as casually as I can.
Ryan turns suddenly towards me and I can’t hold back a dumb smile.
“Hey, Chris,” Ian says right away. “How’s it going?”
“Oh, the usual. I’ll go and clear a table for you. Riley’s trapped over there with my parents,” I say, gesturing behind me.
“They’ve found someone else to interrogate today,” Evan comments sarcastically. “I’ll go over and save her.”
“You guys can sit down here,” I say, pointing them to a table that Leah has just cleared. “What can I get for you?”
“I’ll have a full Irish,” Ian says.
“Me too,” Nick adds.
“For you?” I ask Ryan.
“I’ll have the same, please.” He smiles sheepishly at me, and I feel my heart explode in my chest – and it makes no sense. He only asked me for breakfast, and I’m already jumping into his arms.
“O-okay, I’ll go and see what Riley wants then get it all ready for you,” I say, walking over to my parents’ table to take Riley’s order. She gets up and heads back to join the others.
“I’m just going to get their breakfast,” I say to my parents.
“Can’t Leah or Vic do it?” Mum asks, prying as usual into everyone else’s business.
“I’ll do it. It’ll only take me a few minutes.”
I go through to the back of the café and get to work, but not before glancing over at the O’Connors’ table.
Nick and Ian are chatting happily, while Ryan distances himself, his posture stiff and his elbows resting tensely on the table. I force myself to stop staring and get back to work.
I fry the bacon on the hob and put the toast into the toaster. I grab the plates from the shelf above me and place them on the worksurface – then a voice from behind makes me jump.
“Am I interrupting?”
I turn around to see his figure fill the kitchen doorway.
“N-no, of course not.”
“Can I come in?”
I nod slightly as he steps in, uncertainly. He glances at the counter, where we had quite an enjoyable physical encounter, then tears his gaze away, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of us going at it like animals.
