As soon as he’s gone, Gram and Ashley step forward to fill the opening.
“What in the hell happened?” Ashley says in disbelief. “How the f**k did you set pancakes on fire, girl? Out of the two of us, you’re the cook.”
Piper snorts. “Making frozen meals at home doesn’t make me a cook.”
“It does as far as I’m concerned.”
Piper waves her away with her good arm. “I’m fine.”
“You were on fire,” her grandmother reminds her, as if we somehow forgot.
Piper has to lean forward and arch her back to look over her shoulder and meet the old woman’s eyes. “I’m fine, Gram.”
She’s not wrong about that. Her jeans mold to every inch of her long, toned legs. With her oversized sweater in ashes on the floor, I’m convinced she should wear nothing but tissue paper thin tank tops from this day forward. I c
