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James stays silent for a few breaths, her face serious as she studies me.
But then she smiles, and it feels like witnessing my very own sunrise.
“Yes, chef,” she says, her eyes sparkling like the brightest stars.
Her laugh is a weightless and effervescent thing as she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me into her.
Breakfast eventually turns cold, discarded, and forgotten.
Because nothing compares to the taste of James on my tongue.
EPILOGUE
OZZY
Three months later
“Charlie, if you break that coffee table, all you’re getting for Christmas is coal!” I yell from the hallway while I make my way back to the kitchen. “And Alec you’re no better than him!”
My brother shrieks while jumping off the table as Alec continues to chase him around the living and dining room, weaving around bodies. I shoot them a glare, but the teasing tone in my voice is an obvious giveaway: I’m just happy to have everyone here for a friend’s Christmas dinner, siblings included.
My gaze lands on James standing near the window, Sophia standing next to her. Ever since I introduced them, they’ve been attached to the hip, my sister taking to James like she was the best thing to ever happen to us.
She’s not wrong.
Everyone deserves to have a little bit of James in their life.
James is off on a tangent about her latest painting to Soph and Connie, who’s visiting from LA. The piece is of me and Alec in the busy Orso kitchen, now proudly hanging above the couch.
I must have lingered a little too long because James’s eyes skate to mine while she’s still talking. Her smile brightens as she sends me a quick wink before returning her attention to Connie and Sophia.
My heart flutters and I can feel my cheeks flush. I still act like a schoolboy with a crush when I’m around her. But I don’t think that feeling will ever wane, not when her love and attention have become the best part of my days.
I clear my throat, and turn on my heels, walking into the kitchen where I find Itzel peering over the stove.
“You can’t help yourself, can you,” I say, followed by a playful laugh.
She snickers, rubbing her neck. “I feel weird not doing anything.”
“Don’t we all.” I know how hard it is to stay out of the kitchen when cooking is all you know. “Everything is almost ready anyway. Hux and I’ve got this, right?” I ask while slapping my brother on the shoulder.
He lets out a small grunt, head down, busy cutting onions while trying to pretend his eyes aren’t watering.
Itzel throws up her hands. “Fine, fine, fine,” she says as she returns to the living room with a fresh beer from the fridge.
Huxley and I have gotten a lot closer since he got arrested. Ironic. And admittedly a little sad, but something changed between us the day I picked him up from jail, and I’ve been building on that change.
After turning eighteen back in October, he’s been talking about moving out which I wholeheartedly support.He’s been crashing on my couch most days anyway. Our father hasn’t noticed his absence. Too drunk to care, I’m sure.
We’re still awaiting Huxley’s sentencing. It's the dark cloud we try to ignore on most days, but whatever happens, at least now he knows that I’ll be there for him no matter what.
I step closer to him. “Curl your fingers, remember like I showed you?” I say gently, reminding him how to properly position his hand to avoid cutting a finger while chopping.
His eyebrows crease in concentration, giving me a quick assured nod as he fixes his hand holding the onion and I resist the urge to ruffle his green hair.
Half an hour later, after managing to herd everyone to the dining room table, I set the glazed ham down amongst the plethora of mismatched plates and bowls. An array of them filled with roasted vegetables, salads, and bread, with the lavender ceramic bowl James and I painted together as the centerpiece.
I settle into my chair with a pleased sigh, my heart full as I look around the table. Michelle shares a joke with Quinn. Connie passes a bowl of mashed potatoes to Gustavo. Itzel and Alec cut into the ham. Sophia chides Charlie about not sitting upright, while Huxley punches him in the arm, clearly not helping the situation.
