By the time the house began to show other signs of life, Kaitlyn was already hard at work preparing breakfast. She'd made a quick trip to the car to retrieve her spice stash and some jams, organizing them in the mostly empty pantry before starting. There was no way she'd be caught using day-old dessert pie in her ingredients this time around. Those items, along with the eggs and slightly stale bread the guys already had on hand, gave her pretty much everything she needed to make french toast.

  I'll leave my other stuff in the trunk for now. Stocking their pantry like this might already seem a bit weird, but if I start bringing in my clothes and other stuff? Yeah, that could look a little… presumptuous, maybe. I'll wait on that until they agree to let me stay.

  As she got to work on frying the first batch of toast, she began compiling a mental list of all the equipment she'd need to order for the house. Basic things like additional mixing bowls and utensils were obvious additions. But upgrades to their current cookware were also certainly in order, considering that their only pan was a nonstick one that looked like it had been mistaken for a lottery scratch card.

  Kaitlyn ran a finger along the battered edge of a metal spatula. Yeah, definitely need a better one of these. Maybe a blender, too? Zach likes health food, and I'm sure I could make some awesome smoothies with one… Definitely some baking stuff, too. I'm taking advantage of having a full oven again, no question about it.

  The sounds of sizzling food joined Vinny's thunderous snoring to fill the room. Before long, the vague shufflings she'd heard upstairs culminated into the sound of a door creaking open. Kaitlyn looked over as Chris appeared around the corner, rubbing his eyes blearily as he descended.

  "Mornin'," he yawned. "You're still here?"

  "Hey, Chris." She gave him a small wave and flipped the toast on the stove. "Yup. You guys let me stay the night, remember?"

  "Right, right." He stepped into the living room, glancing at Vinny's splayed-out form on the couch. "Yeah, forgot about that. Explains why he's not in his room. What're you up to?"

  Kaitlyn shrugged. "Figured I could make you guys some breakfast at least. French toast. No one minds waking up to food."

  Chris chuckled. "You've got that right. Got me out of bed, at least. It smells really good."

  "I'm glad. I've made the recipe before, and trust me, it tastes as good as it smells."

  The pair began working in companionable silence—Kaitlyn cooking more toast and transferring it to the warm oven while Chris got to work on the aftermath of the previous night's party. She had already picked up most of the mess cluttering the kitchen before cooking, but he began collecting the discarded cups and plates that littered the rest of the room and stuffing them into garbage bags. By the time Ryan joined them, he'd managed to bring some semblance of order to the house.

  "Yo!" The shorter fratboy perked up as he spotted her. "Hey, I remember you! Kaitlyn, right?"

  "Hey, Ryan," she returned the greeting as she set a few paper plates on the table. "Good timing. Hungry?"

  "What, you made food?" His eyes widened upon seeing the stacks of french toast emerge from the oven. "Aw, hell yeah! She's cute, and she cooks? Can we keep her around?"

  Kaitlyn chuckled. "Careful what you wish for, you might get it."

  Ryan walked over to the couch and gave it a swift kick. "Yo! Food!"

  A string of crude grumbles replaced the snoring as Vinny roused. "Fuck, the hell you wakin' me up for? Lemme sleep, dammit!"

  The pair bantered back and forth for a minute as Kaitlyn finished setting the table. She pulled out a few jars of jam and the remaining butter from the fridge before calling over her shoulder. "Alright. Get it while it's hot!"

  "Who the—" Vinny's head snapped up with surprise. "Oh. You're still here, huh."

  "Good morning to you, too," she gestured toward the table. "Want any? You're more than welcome to go back to sleep if not. I doubt either of these guys would mind splitting the extra."

  The blonde sniffed the air suspiciously. "French toast? Huh. Sure. Can't be worse than what I'm used to."

  Ryan's expression turned affronted. "Hey! Are you insulting my cooking?"

  "Is that what you call it when you burn damn pasta? Then yeah, I am."

  "Hey, that was one time!"

  Chris called over from across the room. "Yeah, cuz you lost pasta privileges after that."

  Kaitlyn settled in at her place as the others joined her, Ryan sulking slightly. They began piling their plates high with food and passing around the various jars. Vinny picked up one to inspect the label. "Since when do we have apricot jam? Is this Zach's shit?"

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  "Nope. I had some with me." Kaitlyn explained as she served herself. "You guys were kind of lacking in the toppings department, so I volunteered some of my own."

  "You just carry jam and shit with you? The hell? Where d'you even keep it, girlie?"

  "In my car. Where else?"

  Vinny snorted. "Sure. That makes sense. The hell do you drive, a food truck?"

  "No, I'm just used to people not knowing how to cook. Or season things. Or stock a pantry." She shot a pointed look at their sorry excuse for a kitchen.

  "Well, excuse me for not havin' a fuckin' restaurant in our house."

  "You're excused," Kaitlyn allowed herself a small smile. "Now, are you gonna use that or just stare at it? Because I definitely want some."

  Vinny grumbled, twisting open the jar and spreading some of the glistening jelly on his french toast before passing it on. Kaitlyn accepted the jar gratefully and did the same before digging in.

  There we go. She closed her eyes, savoring the sweet flavor of the jam as it melded with the richness and subtle spices in the toast. That's good stuff right there. Way better than last time.

  She could have done better, of course. Some homemade jams would have elevated this whole meal to the next level, but there was no way she could've pulled that off in such a short timeframe—especially this early in the loop. Even having a bit of dairy to make whipped cream or a custard would have helped. But for now, those improvements would have to wait.

  Oooh, there's an idea. What if I make something like those fruit sandwiches, but with french toast? I can put a couple of slices together, make a nice rich custard for the inside, slice up some fruit to mix in… Oh yeah, I'm DEFINITELY trying that.

  Opening her eyes revealed about the reaction she'd expected from around the table. Silence. Not a single word spoken through the sheer volume of food being crammed into each guy's face. Even the eternally cynical Vinny hadn't managed a comment this time, too busy grabbing more for himself to risk interrogating her further.

  Kaitlyn smiled with satisfaction. Good. I'm glad they like it.

  She considered trying to grab one or two more slices for herself. But considering the practically feral light in the eyes of each guy, she didn't particularly want to wade in and risk losing a hand. Instead, she contented herself with the portion she'd already helped herself to.

  Eventually, the sounds of chewing gave way to groans and sighs of satisfaction. The once-towering piles of french toast disappeared with alarming speed until all that remained were crumbs and smudges of jam on plates.

  Chris was the first one to break the silence. "That… was really fuckin' good."

  Vinny snorted. "That's one way to put it. The fuck did you put in that? Crack?"

  She shook her head. "Nope. Just nutmeg, vanilla, and some leftover brandy. Well, aside from the eggs and a bit of sugar, I mean. It's really a pretty simple recipe when you get down to it."

  Ryan leaned back in his chair, hands resting on a slightly protruding stomach. "She's an angel. She's an angel that descended from heaven itself to make us drinks and breakfast."

  Her grin widened. "Hey, now. The breakfast was pretty good, I'll admit, but the drinks last night? I can do way better than that. Especially if I can swing a quick trip to the store."

  The three guys shared a silent look with each other. Kaitlyn half expected them to use the segue to bring up the matter of her staying here or at least ask why she hadn't left yet. But none of that happened. Instead, some kind of understanding seemed to pass between them for a brief moment, one that she couldn't parse.

  Weird. Wonder what that was about?

  After another minute of satisfied rest, Chris stood up. "Thanks again for breakfast…?"

  "Kaitlyn," she supplied at the guy's questioning look. She quirked a brief smile before adding, "You can call me Lynn if you want."

  "Right. Lynn." He nodded. "Welp, it's about time for me to get back to cleaning. You lot gonna help or what?"

  "Fine, fine." Vinny growled as he stood. "Not like I got somewhere better to be."

  Kaitlyn stood as well, reaching over to collect the empty plates. Vinny waved her off with an annoyed hand. "Fuck outta here. Go sit on the couch or somethin', girlie."

  She crossed her arms defiantly. "Come on. With the state this place is in? It seems like you need all the help you can get."

  "Whaddya mean? It's fine. Just gotta pick up the last of the shit and we're good."

  Uh-huh, Kaitlyn cast a quick glance around the room. What about the spills? The floor? The weird sticky spots on the table? We should probably open some windows, too—it smells like old beer in here.

  She rolled her eyes and headed for the kitchen, grabbing a roll of paper towels and some soap. A quick look under the sink revealed that the house didn't have much else in the way of cleaning supplies—another thing she added to her mental shopping list. The discovery made her suspect that a vacuum may not be forthcoming, either. So for now, this would have to do.

  As she began wiping down the tables and counters as best she could, Kaitlyn kept waiting for someone to broach the topic of her sticking around. Surely someone would raise the question of what she was still doing here. After all, it was well into the afternoon, and she was clearly sober enough to drive at this point. Besides, making breakfast had almost certainly paid off any outstanding debt she owed them for staying the night, so it wasn't like they'd expect her to stick around for longer.

  Yet as the room slowly recovered from its post-party hangover, nothing happened. Not a single conversation came close to touching the subject. No one seemed to even acknowledge that her presence needed addressing. Instead, she watched the guys go about their days as they finished cleaning.

  Well, that's weird. It's always come up at breakfast before. I wonder what changed?

  She shrugged. If they didn't want to talk about it yet, then that was their deal. It wasn't like she was particularly inclined to be the one to bring the topic up herself. And so she didn't.

  Kaitlyn straightened from wiping down the last of the chairs and stretched toward the ceiling. No use worrying about it, I guess. I'm sure it'll come up at dinner or something. In the meantime, I might as well make myself useful, right?

  With that, she headed back upstairs to Vinny's room. The guy had enough dirty laundry that washing it all would require a few loads. Best to start now if she wanted to get it done today.

  If they don't mind, then I'll make myself at home. If they do… then I'm sure someone will bring it up soon.