She rolls her eyes, but before she can respond, the back door swings open and Lily strolls in.
“Morning, roomies!” she calls cheerfully, then stops short at the sight of us. “Am I interrupting something? Gosh Mia, you look…positively glowing”
A bark of a laugh escapes me, unable to contain myself as I clear my throat trying to cover it.
“Just making breakfast,” I carry on smoothly, returning to the now-overcooked eggs. “And discussing Mia's intimate relationship with black pepper.” I wink for only her to see and chuckle at her blush.
“Black pepper and I are not on speaking terms,” Mia turns and explains to Lily, still dabbing at her watery eyes. “Never have been.”
Lily's gaze darts between us, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “Interesting. And Grant just happened to be cooking with it while conveniently shirtless?” she asks all fake innocence.
I shoot my sister a warning look. “Don't you have somewhere to be?”
“Not until noon,” she says cheerfully. “Thanks for letting me crash again,” Lily says, walking around the kitchen island likeshe owns the place. “That couch and I are becoming one.” She crosses her fingers to emphasize the oneness.
Before I can retort, Lily moves over to the coffee pot and starts pouring herself a cup. “Anywho, I’ve got plenty of time now to get to know our new houseguest better.”
Mia shifts uncomfortably, clearly not thrilled at being the center of attention. “I should probably get back to work. Deadline and all that.”
“Without breakfast?” I protest, scraping the salvageable eggs onto a plate. “At least eat something first.” I say bringing the pan to the table.
“I'll make us some toast,” Lily offers “No pepper involved, I promise.”
Mia hesitates, then nods. “Okay, that would be nice. Thank you.”
As Lily busies herself with the bread, I lean closer to Mia. “Sorry for making you uncomfortable.”
“Which time?” she whispers back, a flash of her sharp wit returning. “The shirtless cooking or the explicit commentary?”
I grin, relieved she's not truly upset. “Both. Neither. I'm not actually sorry about either.” The grin threating to split my face open.
She shakes her head, but there's a smile playing at her lips. “You're incorrigible, anyone ever tell you that?.”
“Part of my charm darlin’.
“Is that what you call it?” she asks, her eyebrow quirked but there’s a twinkle in her eye.
Our banter is interrupted by Lily placing a plate of toast between us. “Here you go. Safe for consumption, even for those with delicate constitutions.” She says, perching on a stool across from us. “So, Mia, Grant mentioned you're a swimmer? Olympic level?”
Mia nods, seeming more comfortable discussing her career than our charged interaction. “Training for the Summer Games. Though being stranded in Texas has put a dent in my schedule.”
“Grant could take you to the Wellington community pool,” Lily suggests. “It's Olympic-sized. They built it when that swimmer—what was his name, Grant?”
“Harmon Bonn,” I supply. “He grew up in Wellington before winning gold.”
“That's the one,” Lily confirms.
“Anyway, the town invested in a proper pool after he got famous. Grant knows the manager—he could probably get you in during the off-hours this week.”
“I already offered,” I say, sliding a fresh mug of coffee toward Mia. “We can go when the pool opens on Monday, if you still want to?.”
“That would be...” Mia hesitates, clearly torn between maintaining her independence and accepting help. “...really helpful. Thank you.”
“It's settled then,” Lily declares, which seems to be her go to catchphrase lately, as she steals a piece of my toast. “A swimming date.”
“It's not a date,” Mia and I say simultaneously, then look at each other in surprise.
Lily just smirks. “Uh-huh, sure it's not.” As she turns and digs for something in the fridge.
