Page 85 of Wild Like Us

“Those are for Sulli,” I say fast.

He makes a face and points at me with the floppy, half-burnt pancake. “Who are you and what have you done with Banks?”

I chew on the toothpick. “I’m the same as I’ve always been.”

“Youdon’t cook. You especially don’t cook special breakfasts for anyone.”

My lip nearly rises. “You sure I haven’t cooked one for you before?”

“Thatcher has. You?Never,” Akara says. “If you cooked me breakfast, I would’ve marked the date on a calendar and stuck OMG stickers around the wordsBanks Loves Me.”

I hold his gaze. “What’s today’s date?”

“September 29th.”

I nod to him. “Go get your OMG stickers. I made you scrambled eggs.”

“Not pancakes?”

“Those are for—”Sulli.I cut myself off as Akara bites into the pancake.

Cringing, he spits it out in the sizzling fire. “Shit, these arebad,man.Like charcoal putty.”

Fuck.

I try one and barely chew before spitting the hunk in the flames too.

“Here.” Akara comes closer. “Let me help.” He’s about to take the pan from my hand, but I rock back.

“I’ve got it. You’ve already had time with heralonein the tent. Just let me try to make a fucking pancake.” I have some batter left. And this would be a power-move on my part if I could actually cook a goddamn fucking pancake.

Akara is like a king, bishop, and rook on a chessboard. I’m just one knight trying to move in an L-pattern that makes no sense half the time.

After I toss the third pancake on the plate, I pour more batter in the frying pan.

Akara sinks down on a rock across from me. He just keeps looking at me.

“What?” I ask.

“I’m not used to seeing you this frustrated. Not much gets under your skin. Except me right now.” He sends me an apologetic look.

I exhale roughly, hating being in a state of agitation. Feeling like I’m going to come up short when I pride myself on being there, without question or hesitation, for people who need me.

Quietly, I tell him, “It’s the situation. I’ll get over it.” I pass Akara a bowl of scrambled eggs.

“Thanks.” He finds a fork. “Sulli is still sleeping, you know. We weren’t kissing or having some kind of marathon conversation—and I can’t believe I’m even giving you these details.”I can’t either.He didn’t have to tell me any of that. Akara stabs the eggs a few times, then says, “It’d be easier if you were some asshole blueblood like the Rooster.” His eyes meet mine. “Then I’d just kick your ass.”

I laugh. “You can still kick my ass if you want. But I’ll probably put you on yours.”

He shakes his head, smiling. “In your dreams, Moretti.”

I smile back. “I’d take that dream. It’d be better than the shit I’m sleeping through these days.”

Akara’s features grow more serious. “You’re having bad dreams?”

I lift a shoulder and flip the newest pancake.“Just restless ones.”

While he takes a strong bite of eggs, he stares at the ground. He must be thinking hard about something. If it were related to work, he’d confide in my brother in an instant. But I’m not sure if this is about security.