Strike Of Luck

Chapter Thirty

Jordan's POV

Waking up to sun rays hitting my face, blinking a few times while covering myself with my hands. I turned to look and my side and was not surprised to be met with a still sleepy Olivia.

I couldn't get my head around what happened last night yet—it felt kind of surreal.

Carefully slipping off the bed I made my way to the bathroom trying to make as little noise as possible. After doing my business in the bathroom I went out to find Olivia still sound asleep on the bed, I was not about to leave before she woke up—no matter a part of me telling to do it.

Instead I ignored it and had the idea of go out and make her some breakfast for when she wakes—I'm not sure what time it is though. As I made my way down the hallway I noticed the guest room's door was slightly opened, inside you could see all Dalton, Vivianna and Chris sleeping on the same bed—with Vivianna in the middle and the other two cuddle to her side.

It was a pretty funny sight.

I shook my head and continued my silent way to the kitchen, wondering if Rob and Wade had slept over as well but I doubt they did.

"What are you doing?" I jumped at the sound of the voice.

Turning around to face the grumpy teenager in pajamas I spoke on a low voice. "I'm going to the kitchen, Savannah."

"Are you going to steal our food?"

"What? No, I'm not going to steal your food. Are you out of your mind?"

"It's just a question... why so defensive about it?" Savannah narrowed her eyes.

"Whatever kid." I rolled my eyes and kept walking down to the kitchen—even though I could feel and hear her steps following behind me, all the way till we entered the kitchen.

"I'm hungry." Savannah stated as she sat on the barstool.

"And?"

"Make me breakfast, hobo."

"That's not the way to ask for food, kiddo." I responded as I prepared the coffee with the coffee maker.

"This is my kitchen."

"Exactly," I turned around to face the teenager. "And I am a guest in your home, there before by your logic, you should be the one preparing breakfast."

"I don't cook I'm fourteen." Savannah looked at me like I was stupid—which is not new.

"That's a ridiculous excuse. Get up we are making breakfast for everyone."

"We?"

"Yes we. Now get up and grab some eggs from the fridge." I ordered while I took a pan out of and put it on the stove. Savannah appeared by my side—putting the eggs I had asked for on top of the counter.

"What are you going to make?" She asked.

"We are making fried eggs with bacon and waffles." I grabbed an egg and broke it on top of the oiled pan—making it fall perfectly on it. "Pass me the salt."

Savannah went on to take the bacon and the waffles out of the freezer—yes I had no intention to make the waffles from scratch.

"You make the rest of the eggs while I take care of the bacon."

"Like this?" She asked as she cracked an egg.

"Pretty good kid, just make sure no part of the shell falls on the egg." I started to put some of the cooked bacon out of the pan and into a plate.

"Did your mom taught you how to cook?" Savannah asked while looking at the egg on the pan.

"No— I mean she tried but she didn't." I chuckled at the distant memory of my mom trying to teach me how to cook, something that ended with me almost burning down the kitchen. "No, my— my ex-girlfriend taught me, actually."