Page 48 of Too Safe

He did. Which is what gives me the courage to make my next request.

“Do you think you could take me to my uncle’s place today so I can get my stuff?”

Chapter 20

Josephine

IfollowKyliandownthe stairs, feeling lighter than I’ve felt in days. The promise of getting off the isle temporarily is doing all sorts of things to lift my spirits.

“Hope you’re hungry,” he murmurs over his shoulder as he bounds down the last few stairs and heads toward the kitchen. “We go all-out after home games.”

I don’t know what I was expecting to find the morning after a raging party, but it wasn’t the sight in front of me.

The kitchen is spotless, aside from the enormous spread of breakfast items setup on the island. There’s no evidence of the party anywhere, and every surface is gleaming. It’s hard to imagine this space was filled with coeds last night.

“Good morning, Mrs. Lansbury.”

An older woman turns from the open dishwasher and smiles warmly at us.

“There you are,” she singsongs in a distinguished accent. “You’re never last to the table, Kylian. Are you well?”

“I’m fine. Just needed a bit of extra rest this morning,” he assures her as he grabs two plates and hands one to me. “This is Jo, by the way.”

Her eyes meet mine, and her smile widens, deepening the wrinkles around her eyes.

“Ah, yes. Miss Meyer. Decker informed me of your arrival. It’s a pleasure. If there’s anything you need at all, dear, don’t hesitate to ask.”

I nod mindlessly, unsure of what I could possibly need beyond the massive buffet spread laid out in front of us.

Beside me, Kylian piles his plate with bacon, sausage, two bagels, four waffles, and a huge serving of crispy hash browns.

“How do you take your coffee, Miss Meyer?” Mrs. Lansbury’s accent is enchanting—Scottish? Or maybe British? I could listen to her talk all day.

“Um, you can call me Joey. Cream and sugar is fine. Usually I use way too much flavored creamer, but—”

“What flavors do you prefer?” she demands.

Kylian meets my eyes and quirks a brow.

“Vanilla is fine. But I’m not picky. I like sweet cream or hazelnut, too.”

“I’ll get a few of each,” she insists, lifting a tablet off the counter and tapping away.

I open my mouth to protest, but Kylian cuts me off.

“Fill your plate. We’re late.”

Late?

I comply as Mrs. Lansbury busies herself at the sink. By the time I’ve made up a plate, Kylian has filled up a second one.

“Where are you going to put all that?” I tease. I’m hungry, too, but damn.

He shoots me a confused look. “I’m not putting it anywhere. I’m going to eat it.”

Um. Okay.

“Syrup, ketchup, and condiments will be on the table. Follow me.”

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