Chapter 11

Kent

The bell above the diner door jangles, a familiar sound that usually announces the beginning of a quiet breakfast. Today, I have a plus-one as I push the door open for Amelia. She steps into the sunlit space, her smile brightening the room.

"Morning, Kent!" A chorus of greetings comes from the corner booth, where my past converges with my present. It seems my friends are here, waiting to surprise us en masse. They knew I had a date, but that's not unusual. Why would they show up this morning of all days? They wave us over with the casual presumption of long-established camaraderie.

I suppress a sigh. There's nothing to be done but move forward at this point. "Amelia, these are my friends," I say, gesturing toward each woman. "Joanna, Phoebe, Leah, and Danielle." Their eyes sparkle with mischief, but they greet Amelia warmly and scoot around the vinyl seats, making room for two more.

"Hope you don't mind us crashing your date," Leah says, her tone suggesting she's not particularly worried about it. "We just knew we'd find you here."

I slide into the booth beside Amelia, trying to ignore the feeling of being on display.

The server, a middle-aged man with a practiced smile, arrives right on cue. I order the full English breakfast. The greasy comfort food feels like armor against the unexpected barrage of my personal history.

"Kent, what's your cholesterol again?" Phoebe winks at Amelia, who hides a smile behind her napkin.

"Mind your own business," I retort with a half-hearted glare.

"Two scrambled eggs with bacon and dry wheat toast, please," Amelia requests, proving once again that her choices are so much wiser than mine.

"Ah, as a nutritionist, I approve," Phoebe chimes in, nodding at Amelia.

Though I'm a little nervous at first, before long I have to admit how effortlessly Amelia fits into this slice of my life. She seems entirely unfazed by the unexpected company, and I feel a spark of warmth at the thought that perhaps my worlds aren't so incompatible after all.

I stir my coffee as Amelia's gaze sweeps over the table. "So, how did you all know we'd be here for breakfast?" she asks with a curious tilt of her head.

Joanna, who's practically attached to my side, sends me an adoring look that makes my stomach twist. "Oh, this is Kent's signature breakfast spot for dates," she says, not picking up on my silent plea for discretion.

"Hey," I interject, trying to keep the mood light, "it's convenient, right across from my place." I gesture vaguely toward the window, hoping to redirect the conversation away from my dating history.

Amelia nods and smiles, looking around the table.

"How was the pub crawl yesterday?" Leah inquires, almost too eagerly.

"Fantastic," Amelia replies, her eyes lighting up. "Though we really only visited one place."

I smile at that, thinking about our conversation, the laughter shared. It was more than fun; it was a connection. The kind I hadn't felt in a long while.

Amelia again looks around the table. "How do you all know Kent?"

Jo leans forward, a conspiratorial glint in her eye. "We've all dated him at some point," she divulges as I wince.

Danielle chuckles. "Yeah, we're like the Kent Alumni Association." She winks at Amelia. "You can join when he dumps you."

I feel heat rush to my cheeks, not sure if I'm embarrassed or annoyed, maybe both. I want to say something, to defend myself or change the subject, but I'm momentarily lost for words. These women, these friends… They know me well, perhaps too well, and now they're offering Amelia an unsolicited glimpse into my past. I can't quite read her expression.

"Hey, let's not scare Amelia off," I say. I mean this as a gentle nudge to my friends, whose familiarity with one another—and with me—might be overwhelming for someone on the outside.

But Leah just grins and snatches my phone from the table, my protests lost in the scramble. She punches in my passcode, a sequence she memorized during one of our movie nights when I was too lazy to get it to do something myself.

"Amelia," Leah announces as she taps swiftly on the screen, "Kent has great taste in women—look at the four of us. We're gonna love you no matter what happens with this guy." She nods at me, her eyes crinkling with mischief. "Just sent you a text so we can hang out. Girls' night soon?"

I glance at Amelia, hoping she takes Leah's forwardness as the sign of affection it's meant to be. Amelia smiles, a touch of surprise in her expression, but she doesn't seem put off by Leah's brashness.

"Thanks, Leah," Amelia says. "I'd like that."

Joanna leans across the table, her hand touching mine to draw my attention. "Kent, don't forget you're helping me move tomorrow," she says, her tone casual but her eyes holding mine in a silent plea to remember my promise.

"Of course, Jo. I haven't forgotten," I assure her. "I'll be there. What time do you need me?"

"Early. Eight okay?" Joanna asks, knowing full well that on a weekend, early for me usually means double digits on the clock.

"Eight it is," I confirm, pushing back a groan. The things I do for friends, especially ones I've known as long and as intimately as these women.

"Thanks," she responds, giving my hand a quick squeeze before leaning back against the booth, the matter settled.

The server arrives with plates balanced deftly along his arms, and the conversation shifts naturally to the food in front of us. As the scent of sausage and eggs fills the air, I find myself grateful for the eclectic group around me, even if they have a strange way of showing their affection.

I'm halfway through my plate of sausage and fried eggs when Leah's voice cuts through the chatter, tinged with a hint of distress. "Oh, Kent, the mice are back." She wrinkles her nose as if she can see the little critters scurrying around her apartment at this very moment. "Would you mind setting the traps again?"

"Sure, no problem," I reply, already picturing myself in Leah's kitchen, baiting those traps. It's not exactly the way I want to spend my free time, but for my friends, it seems I'm always on call. I know the drill. She'll phone me the moment one snaps shut, too squeamish to deal with the aftermath.

A shadow falls over the table as Danielle leans forward, her eyes catching mine. "Speaking of helping out," she says, "when's your next day off? My car needs to go to the shop, and I was hoping you could give me a lift?"

I pause, a piece of toast hovering midway to my mouth. I think about the commitments stacking up like the plates in front of us, my mental calendar filling rapidly with favors owed and promises made. "It's Tuesday," I say after a moment, putting down the toast. "Just text me the details, Dani. I'll swing by."

"Thanks, Kent. You're a lifesaver," she says with a grateful smile.

I nod and take another bite of my breakfast, the flavors a little less vibrant as I mull over the juggling act of my personal life, all while Amelia watches the exchanges with an amused, yet curious sparkle in her eyes.

Eventually, the clatter of cutlery against plates dwindles as everyone slows down, sated by the hearty breakfasts. I push my plate away and lean back, catching Amelia's eye. She smiles.

"Hey, everyone," Phoebe says during a quiet pause. "I'm hosting dinner next weekend at my place. You're all invited, of course." She turns to Amelia. "You too, Amelia. It would be great to have you join us."

Amelia's lips part in a polite smile. "Thank you, that's really kind of you," she says. "But I'm swamped with work right now. Deadlines are piling up, and I'm trying not to commit to anything else. Maybe another time?"

"Of course," Phoebe nods. "Just let us know if you find you're free."

When everyone has finished, we stand, signaling the end of our gathering, and I sense an unspoken relief from Amelia. I nod to my friends, who return the gesture with varying degrees of warmth and cheeky grins. I pick up the check for the table, and we make our way out onto the sidewalk. It's sunny today, which means it's extra cold.

"Let me drive you home," I offer, after we've said our goodbyes to the others, sliding on my sunglasses.

"Okay," Amelia agrees, falling into step beside me.

We stroll back to my car and drive the short distance to her apartment building. I know I need to address the elephant in the room—or the diner, rather. "Look, about my friends…" I start, scratching the back of my neck. "They can be a little…intense. But they're harmless, honestly. And maybe a bit protective."

"Protective?" Amelia looks up at me, amusement in her eyes. "Are they protecting you or me?"

"Ha, good question," I chuckle, surprised by her perceptiveness. "Maybe a bit of both?"

We reach her building, and once I've parked, she faces me, a hint of laughter still playing around her lips. "Well, I'll be sure to tread carefully then," she says before thanking me for breakfast.

"Anytime," I reply as I lean in, closing the space between us. "And thank you for last night and again this morning." My lips find hers, and the world narrows to the feel of her mouth moving softly against mine. It's a long kiss, languid and stirring.

Her hand creeps up to my chest, fingers splayed over my heartbeat. I can feel the gentle pressure as she pulls me closer, deepening the kiss. A warmth coils in my stomach, spreading through my veins like wildfire. Each second stretches out, a moment captured in amber, as our breaths mingle and hearts synchronize.

When we finally part, it's with a soft sound, a sigh that seems to carry all the unspoken thoughts and emotions that have been swirling between us since breakfast.

"Wow," she breathes, eyes sparkling with that same amusement and something more. Something like wonder.

"Wow indeed," I echo as I trace my thumb across her cheek. The air between us crackles with energy I haven't felt in a long time, perhaps ever.

In this moment, I know one thing for certain. No matter what my friends might say or do, what Amelia and I share is ours and ours alone. And it's worth every second.