God, I missed those days when I had no problem sleeping nine to ten hours a night because I had to. Because of judo and because sleep was so important for your body to reenergize and heal, and I had needed every advantage I could take because the sport was so hard on everything. I could remember the times I’d groaned at Grandpa Gus when he’d ordered me to head upstairs even though it had felt too early.

It’s the little things you take for granted. Like sleep. And bladder control.

I gave him a sleepy smile. “Beauty and the Beast,” I yawned. “Mo’s the beauty in case you’re wondering. She woke me up twice in the middle of the night.”

The pleased expression on that handsome face fell away, replaced with a concerned one. “Is she all good?”

“Yeah. Her poop was pretty loose, and she took her time going back to sleep. Then she woke up hangry and took her sweet-ass time going back to sleep that time too. Look, she wants you.” Because she did. Mo had already started leaning forward, even her little arms going up in a reaching gesture for him. “What a bandwagoner.”

His worried face didn’t go anywhere, but his hands did, coming up and toward the daughter who was straining even more to get out of my hold and into his. Little traitor. Once he had her and had placed a kiss on each of her cheeks, he glanced back at me and asked, “Are you all right?”

I blinked, eyeing his clothes—and him—again. “Yeah. Just tired and my back and hips hurt from sleeping on the floor in her room. It’ll pass.” I scratched my throat and eyed my girl who stared dreamily up at the man holding her like wow, who is this? She was such a double-crosser, but her little face made me so happy. “Why are you here so early?”

He smiled at my blunt-ass question, hiking Mo up a little higher on his chest as her hand smacked at the corner of his lips, even as his attention remained on me. “Peter invited me for breakfast.”

He had?

“I like your pajamas.”

I didn’t have time to think about the tiny shorts and loose shirt hanging off my shoulder, because I was too busy trying to think about what had happened the night before. The last thing I remembered after basically crawling up the stairs from how sleepy I was was waving at the remaining five people who were still there after another forty minutes of Jonah trying to explain rugby to people who knew absolutely nothing about it and kept comparing it to football and soccer, when it wasn’t either. Those five people had included Grandpa, Peter, Jonah, and two other guys. It had been midnight, which was hours after my bedtime when I could help it.

And now… it was nine. And he was here.

“Did you get any sleep?” I found myself asking him with another yawn, taking in again how bright and alert he was. Lucky bitch.

“Some,” he answered, finally focusing down at the baby in his arm who had grabbed his T-shirt with two bossy hands to more than likely get his attention.

I didn’t need to do the math in my head. “Shouldn’t you be getting more?”

Jonah did that small, shy smile, but leaned his forehead toward Mo’s as he said, “Yeh… but this is more important.” He tickled her belly with an index finger.

I let that answer hang in the air. And in my heart.

Those honey-colored eyes moved toward me, and the little smile he gave me was deceptive. “My mum is here.”

I glanced down at my clothes. Or lack of clothes.

Then I decided, it was Sunday, it was nine in the morning, and he was at my house. If she wasn’t going to like me because I walked around in my pajamas, then she wasn’t going to like me for the hundred other real reasons I could give her.

“Cute socks.”

It was my turn to probably turn a little pink as I ignored the fact they were flamingo socks that Luna had given me. They clashed perfectly with my red T-shirt from the last time I’d donated blood. “I’ve seen your Spiderman underwear, champ, you don’t have room to talk.”

His laugh made me smile, but I wasn’t the only one; Mo grinned up at the man too as she said a string of consonants and vowels that didn’t totally work together.

But I knew right then that she knew. She had to know somehow who he was. She was already trying to crawl out of my arms to go into his every chance she had, and that said something major.

“Is your sister here?”

“No, she went shopping.”

“Lenny! Stop running your mouth and come eat!” Grandpa Gus hollered from the kitchen, making me roll my eyes.

“Want me to take her?”

He shook his head.

We headed into the kitchen a second later, and I instantly spotted Sarah, his mom, sitting at the island with a cup of tea in her hand. It was a good thing I’d ordered some for Mr. Innocent, I guess. Grandpa was at the stove, dealing with his whole-grain pancakes, and Peter was at the island, cutting up berries because apparently we were spoiling our guests instead of eating thawed frozen berries.

“Morning,” I said, holding the door open for the two and then letting it swing closed as I headed straight for my grandfather, giving him a kiss on the cheek first—we both made eye contact with each other because he could’ve done me a solid and texted me a warning but intentionally hadn’t—and then did the same to Peter, who I wasn’t going to blame because we both knew who the mastermind behind all rude things was: the ancient evil in the house.

And it was that awkward moment as I was pulling away from Peter that I made eye contact with Sarah and had no idea what the fuck to do. Wave? Handshake?

Fuck it.

I went around the island and gave her a kiss too, ignoring the surprise on her face as I did it, but not being able to ignore the man smiling from where he was standing at the other side of the island holding our girl.

“Good morning, Elena,” the woman said, surprise all over her voice too.

Heh.

I shot Jonah a sneaky look as I stretched my arms over my head—my shoulder shooting me a slight fuck you in the process—and asked, “Need help with anything?”

From the looks of it, we were being fancy and shit. We usually fended for ourselves after Grandpa made pancakes or waffles or whatever he was gracing us with, but from the platters I suddenly spotted on the counter, he was done. There was fruit salad, tofu scramble with potatoes, onions, tomatoes, and bell peppers, a bottle of maple syrup and another bottle of honey, and as soon as Peter got done, there were going to be berries too for topping, along with the pancakes.

Whether he was trying to fuck with Sarah or with Jonah, I had no idea. We hadn’t done anything special any other time Jonah had eaten with us but knowing Grandpa, maybe both, because except for the holidays, we didn’t do buffet-style meals. So I knew he was up to something. Showing off? Killing them with fake kindness? I should’ve been surprised he hadn’t run out to the store and bought placemats at the rate he was going.

But as I looked at my grandfather’s profile, he didn’t look like he was up to no good, and I didn’t know what the hell to do with that.

He was purposely not looking at me either, so….

“No, everything is done,” Peter answered as he pushed the bowl of berries toward the middle of the island, catching my eye as he stood straight and then winked at me.

What’s going on? I mouthed, not able to keep from frowning because I could expect some devious shit from Grandpa—of course I could—but Peter being in on it?

The grin he flashed me didn’t make me feel better, but it did at the same time.

“Jonah, coffee or tea?” Peter asked.

“Tea, please. Herbal if you have it,” he replied, standing there while the baby in his arms slapped his cheeks and made his eyes go wide. He whispered something back that had her talking back to him.

Peter’s head swiveled toward me, and I nodded.

“I’ll drink whatever you have,” Jonah amended, I guess noticing our back and forth.

“We have herbal,” I told him as Peter went back to the container where he had grabbed Sarah’s. I’d told both him and Grandpa about it a few days ago when the box had arrived with my regular shipment of matcha tea I took to Maio House.

“Lenny ordered you some,” Grandpa mentioned under his breath, peeking at me as he turned the knob on the range to turn it off.

I felt my nostrils flare.

“You got what? Four different kinds, Len?” the other man I was planning on disowning as soon as we were in private said as he turned toward the island holding a plate with what looked like twenty pancakes stacked on top of each other.

“Yes.” I glanced at Jonah before moving around the island to grab forks from a drawer while everyone else sat wherever they wanted. In my head, I could sit by myself on one end, he could sit with his mom, and The Traitor and Up to No Good could be beside each other.

No one said anything, and when I turned back around with silverware in my hand, my hopes for the seating arrangement had disappeared.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—Mo’s high chair was beside Sarah, who had already angled her stool toward her. There was an expression that I wouldn’t have believed she was capable of yesterday on her face as she watched Mo, like she was a fucking unicorn or something. Which she was.