Chapter 22
The smell of coffee led Sean down to the kitchen where Dane was cooking thin slices of French toast in the waffle iron. A bowl sat in a pot of boiling water on the stove, and Sean slid into a bar seat as Dane poured him a mug.
“It’s always weird when you’re awake before me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m young,” said Dane, and grinned at him. He knew how much messing with Sean about his age pissed him off. “I can sleep whenever.”
“It’s April. You have a birthday this month, don’t you?” asked Sean, pushing back annoyance. If Dane was going to bring up age, he would too. “When is it, oops baby? You want to do anything fun to celebrate, go to a waterpark?”
“f**k you,” said Dane, pulling back the plate he was about to serve Sean. “You don’t deserve my breakfast.”
Sean laughed, got up, and
