Celeste's POV
*****
Montecito, 3:50pm.
"Dear gods… why don't we just order takeout?" Luther grunted when he walked into the living room, a hand on his stomach. "I feel like I could eat a whole stadium."
I tilted my head from the sofa that Silas and I sat on. "Aren't you supposed to be resting? Silas can bring you your share in bed."
The Alpha's face twitched like I suggested he'll be given shit. "I'll pass," he paused, blue eyes glinting with a familiar light. One I've seen back when we dated. "I'd prefer someone else giving me brunch in bed though."
Silas almost instantly tightened his hold on my shoulders while I blushed so hard I could evaporate.
Clearing my throat and trying to ignore the awkward air as Luther sat on a sofa opposite ours—I turned my head to the kitchen entrance.
Smoke was already sizzling out, Atlas' unbothered humming reaching us as he cooked.
I smiled, sighing with expectations while my nose caught all the nice smells.
