Chapter 93: Eating For Two
Lizzie
“What do you mean he’s on the floor right above you guys?” Roman’s voice crackled through the speakerphone the next day, sharp with concern.
Even from hundreds of miles away, I could hear the protective edge in his tone—the same one he used whenever Savannah or the twins were involved.
“That’s exactly what we’re dealing with right now,” I replied, raising my voice slightly over the cheerful sizzle of bacon and sausage coming from the kitchen island. The rich smell of breakfast filled our penthouse, a small pocket of normalcy after yesterday’s chaos.
Reese stood at the stove, shirtless in nothing but blue sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips, flipping the meat with ease. The morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows ca
