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I bet it's hard for him to find clothes that fit his broad shoulders and trim waist.
I shake the thought.
The last thing I need is to be thinking about Seven’s body and what he wears or doesn’t wear.
I survey the scene in front of me as Seven continues to work diligently over the hot stove.
In a third pan, a massive mountain of hashbrowns that could feed a small village is crisping up and popping in the oil he’s frying them in.
Seven’s honey-brown eyes settle onto mine when he finally decides to acknowledge my existence. He watches me over his shoulder for a brief second while I lift myself onto the bar stool sitting at the kitchen countertop across from him.
“Do you want eggs and ham?” he asks.
My stomach starts to rumble at the smell of the delicious breakfast. I haven’t eaten since LAX, after hearing about the storm getting closer. It unsettled my stomach, and then I couldn’t eat the sandwich that I bought at the coffee shop in between my connecting flights.
“That would be great, thanks. The generator must be working?” I ask.
“It’s enough to run a few things. I have solar panels on the roof that help, but there isn’t much power coming in since it’s overcast today from the storm rolling in.”
From the storm rolling in…. I hate the sound of that.
I watch as he tentatively stirs the hashbrowns to get an even crisp on all sides, my mouth watering at the smell of everything he's making.
“Have you heard anything about the weather? Is the storm getting closer?” I ask.
“Tonight should be the worst of it. The hurricane is rolling in closer but it still won’t touch land. We’ll be okay as long as we stay here. It’s going to hit Cancun harder.”
My heart sinks at his update.
I had hoped to get a hotel room in one of the resorts but now I’m not so sure I want to be closer to the eye of the storm.
Do I have any choice anyway?
It’s not as if he wants me to stay here with him for any longer than necessary.
“Have you heard if there is any availability at any of the hotels?”
“My phone got reception earlier this morning for a few minutes. Silas, one of the managers at the biggest hotel in Cancun, said that there are no openings in any of the hotels near there. People are sleeping in the hallways at this point. You’re going to be safer around here. I have one more call to make after breakfast. My neighbor might have a spot for you above her bar.”
My ears perk up at the idea of staying with his neighbor. I feel bad barging in on someone else but staying with her above her bar sounds promising.
A large bang makes me jump out of my seat and clutch my chest. Seven didn’t even flinch.
Nothing seems to phase this man.
“The wind is picking up. It’s going to get worse before it gets better, but it should be past us by tomorrow afternoon,” he assures me.
He seems so calm about it all.
As if it’s just wind and not a category-four hurricane about to hit nearby.
I release the grip on my shirt and settle back into my chair.
One more day… I can do this.
“Thanks for asking around,” I say to him.
He doesn’t have to do any of this. He could just as easily kick me out. And let me fend for myself. “Did you say that you got reception?”
