Rhys
I woke up with a rare, uncontrollable grin plastered across my face, and it hadn't shifted even as I stood over the stove preparing breakfast.
The kitchen was thick with the rich, savory aroma of maple bacon, sizzling breakfast sausages, and fluffy scrambled eggs mixed with sharp cheddar and fresh chives. I even took the time to slice up some fresh avocado and toast a few brioche slices to a perfect golden brown, humming to myself as I flipped the sausages.
"Well, it's a miracle. The ice captain is actually making breakfast instead of calling the private chef," Raymond's deep, groggy morning voice rang out as he sauntered into the kitchen.
He didn't even rub the sleep from his eyes before heading straight for the refrigerator. He snatched a bottle of chilled water, cracked it open, and aggressively gulped down half of it in one go. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he turned his sharp gaze toward me, his brow furrowing.
