The End of Us (Love in Isolation 3)

Easton glances at Tristan who’s watching us and gives him a shrug.

“I’m going to need some things if we’re staying here a while. When will you be back?”

Easton straightens in the chair and flashes an amused smirk. “I don’t work for you.”

His words are a slap in the face. Tristan stifles a laugh when I glare at him.

“Then why are you here?” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Sit and eat. You can give me your list later,” Tristan orders, setting a plate on the breakfast bar. “He lives forty-five minutes away, so he’ll return when he’s able.”

I stare at the burnt bacon and dry eggs sprinkled with pepper and frown. I fight the urge to throw up. “This looks like dog food.”

Easton snorts as Tristan furrows his brows.

“I’m not a personal chef, so eat it or starve. I don’t care either way.”

Tristan sits across from Easton and they begin to eat. Deciding to join them, I take mine and plop down at the end of the table.

“So, are you a bodyguard too?” I ask Easton.

“No, I own a shop in town called Belvedere’s Surf & Suits. I live in the apartment above it.”

“Really? Can you bring me a swimsuit when you return? I wasn’t able to bring one with me and if I’m stuck here, I might as well get a tan.”

“You’re not going on the beach,” Tristan barks.

“What? It’s right there. You’re going to keep me from getting some vitamin D?”

“Take a multivitamin if you’re that concerned.”

I roll my eyes, stabbing my fork into the eggs. “Why? It’s literally thirty seconds from the house.”

“Same reason I can’t be seen. Your stalker knows what I look like. I can’t risk someone recognizing either of us.”

“So, we’re both stuck inside this house for God knows how long?”

“Correct. It’s why Easton will shop for us.”

“Well, I’m gonna guess Easton didn’t get tampons…” I blurt out.

Easton chokes on his orange juice. Tristan shakes his head and speaks up. “Add it to your list then.”

I turn to his brother. “Do you need pictures or will you be able to find the correct ones?”

The corner of his lips tilt up as he wipes juice off his chin. “I have mostly women employees and have dated in the past, so yeah, I think I can figure out super versus regular. Or are you a wings girl?”

I glower at his snarky comment, then flash a cheeky grin. “Only on my heavy days when I’m a real delight to be around. Isn’t that right, Tristan?” I hope to get a reaction out of him because he acts like a robot otherwise.

Easton barks out a laugh, his face filled with amusement. “You have your hands full, brother. I’m only sorry I didn’t bring you a case of beer.”

Tristan kicks him under the table and we stare him down, but for different reasons.

“I’m the one who’ll need alcohol. Tristan’s dry sense of humor might bore me to death,” I groan, although I could get used to waking up to the view of his six-pack abs and muscular arms. The eye candy almost makes up for his lack of personality.

I scarf down the eggs just to get something in my stomach. “They taste better than they look,” I tell Tristan. “Next time, less pepper and add cheese.”

“I told you they needed something else,” Easton gloats, pointing his fork at Tristan. “But you said she was lactose intolerant.”

I blink, jerking my head toward Tristan. “How did you know that?”

“So you are?” Easton asks.

“Yeah, but I can still eat small amounts of dairy,” I admit.

“Any other requests?” Tristan deadpans.

“Let me go home,” I blurt out with a flicker of hope.

“Since we’ve been here less than twenty-four hours, you might want to spread out your complaints or you’ll run out of things to whine about,” Tristan says without an ounce of emotion.

“As much as I’d love to stay and hang out, I have to get to work.” Easton stands, then sets his plate in the sink. “I’ll try to return this weekend. Think you can last that long?” he sarcastically asks me.

I cross my arms. “Let’s hope Mother Nature gets on your schedule. It’s bad enough I’m sweating like a hippo.”

Easton nods at Tristan as if to say good luck.

“I’ll text you,” Tristan tells him before Easton leaves.

I set my half-eaten breakfast on the counter, then open the fridge. It’s filled with the essentials: milk, butter, cheese, and yogurt. But not the Greek yogurt I prefer. I notice there are no protein shakes either. I check the freezer and find frozen pizzas and waffles. In the pantry, there are boxes of pasta, marinara sauce, bread, and a box of cereal.

“You got us bachelor food,” I tell Tristan. “Where are the fruit and veggies?”

“I thought it was more important to have food that’d last longer than a few days since I didn’t know when he’d have time to drop by again.”