Down Fall (Fallen Duet 2)

They all reeled off their orders, not giving me much attention. Not even Brody looked up at me. And the longer I stood there, the more my hopes dashed. I hadn’t expected him to get on his knees and tell me he’d be with me forever because I was pregnant, but I hadn’t expected the silent treatment I was getting right then.

I moved away from the table and went back to the counter, handing Sal the ticket and trying to forget they were sitting so close by. I tried not to track their movements as Brody got up and walked to the bathroom or notice the fact that he’d stuck his head into the kitchen.

I certainly didn’t try to hear what he was saying to Sal, not that the sizzle of the fryer in there and the chatter out here could be heard over. I filled random people’s cups with freshly brewed coffee, wiped the knives and forks over even though I’d already done that, and I was just debating whether to check if the ketchup bottles needed filling up when Sal called, “Order up.”

My sweaty palms would be the death of me, so I wiped them on my dress and grabbed two of the six plates. I went back and forth again, and on the last trip, Sal said, “You can take your break now, Lola-Girl.”

I didn’t argue because, if I was honest, I could use some fresh air and a little time to clear my head. I had no idea what was happening around me. I was floating on a cloud that could dissipate at any second.

I gripped the edges of the two plates and walked back over to Brody’s table, placing the one plate in front of him and then frowning down at the omelet and slice of toast. “Erm...whose is the omelet?” I asked.

Brody moved over and patted the seat next to him. “It’s yours. Come and sit.”

“Oh no, I—”

“Sal has given you your break, and I ordered your food. Come and sit.” He paused, his gaze flitting over the guys and finally settling back on me. “We need to talk.”

“We do?” I asked, my voice betraying me. I was an emotional wreck.

“Yeah.” He took the plate from my hands and placed it next to his. “Sit.”

I did as I was told, completely aware I’d adhered to his command, but my rumbling stomach didn’t care one bit. All it wanted was more food.

The guy with the small Afro covered his breakfast with ketchup, and I screwed my nose up at the smell. Tomatoes were a real problem for me at the moment, anything that contained it, which meant pizza was firmly out, as well as my favorite pasta dishes.

“What?” he asked.

“You gonna have any breakfast with that ketchup?”

He looked down at his plate, his lips quirking, and then back up at me. “Nah. I love tomatoes.”

I fake gagged and cut a piece of my omelet. “That’s just...disgusting.”

He pointed at my omelet. “Because that looks appetizing.”

“It’s the only thing I can keep down before noon.” I shrugged and placed some egg into my mouth. “It does the job.” The atmosphere changed at my words, and all four of them stared at me with wide eyes. “What?”

Brody shook his head and cleared his throat. “I never even thought about morning sickness.” He blinked, his hand clenched on the table. “Do you have it now?”

“I’m good right now.” I smiled at him. “But I’d bet you ten dollars that this doesn’t stay in my body for longer than an hour.”

“Ew,” the other guy who had been in the interview room with me said. “Too much info, Lola.”

I raised a brow. “So you know my name, but I have no idea who any of you are.”

“Jord,” the guy with the Afro said. Followed by “Kyle” from the guy who was in the interview with me, and then “Ryan” from the person sitting on the other side of Brody.

I nodded. “Nice to meet you all. Sorry about yesterday.” I cringed at my words and groaned. “Shit.” My fork clattered against the plate, and my shoulders sagged. Hut’s body flashed in my mind, and I jerked. My stomach roiled, and I wasn’t sure whether that couple of bites of omelet would stay down for five minutes, never mind an hour.

“Lola,” Brody’s deep voice called. His hand landed on my knee, and my head shot up. “Take a breath.” His calming voice always had the desired effects. “We came to tell you that you have nothing to worry about.”

“You...did?” I croaked out, my hand itching to move over the top of his.

“Yeah.” He smiled and winked. “And to get some breakfast, of course.”

“Of course,” I replied. “But what happened—”

“It’s best you don’t know,” Jord said, stuffing his face with more ketchup. “Just know you have nothing to worry about.” He paused and met my stare. “Apart from getting swollen feet and morning sickness.”