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like a wreck to put it mildly.
    After fixing a nights worth of sleeping like the dead next to Bandit, I looked in the mirror and was much happier with what I saw. I grabbed a hair tie out of the pile I had on my nightstand and headed down the stairs as I twisted my hair up into a messy bun and followed my nose to the coffee.
    Reaching up in the cabinet for my favorite cup, I heard Troy and Bandit ambling down the hallway to the kitchen.
    I loved where I lived. It was almost what I had always dreamed up growing. Although growing up, my biggest wish was to not live an apartment anymore. When mom and I had lived with Gravel, we had also lived in an apartment, but it felt like home. After we had left, nothing felt like home.
    Now my place in Rockton finally felt like home. It had a porch that spanned the front of the house that I loved to sit on and just watch the world go by. As you walked in the front door, you walked right into the living room and the stairs to the upstairs were to the left. If you walked into the living room and down the hall, the half bath was on the right and all the way down the hall was the kitchen. It was painted slate gray on three of the walls and a bright sunshine yellow on the fourth wall. I loved it. It was where I spent most of my time when I was at home even though I couldn’t cook to save my life.
    Holding the delicious cup of coffee up to my mouth I blew on it and watched Troy walk in the kitchen with Bandit, once again, right on his heels. Troy was wearing a dark navy blue tee and washed out jeans that were ripped at both knees. His tee was stretched taut across his shoulders and it took all my willpower not to openly stare at him as he took his cup off the counter and refilled it.
    “Thanks for making the coffee,” I said, trying to distract myself from analyzing what color brown his eyes were as he looked at me.
    “No problem. I was going to make breakfast, but I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”
    “Oh, there’s really not a lot to choose from. I’m not much of a cook, so breakfast is normally either cereal or a toaster pastry.”
    “I saw you had bacon and eggs. OK if I cook that up?” Troy asked, making his way to where I kept the pans I barely used and grabbed out my big fry pan.
    “Um, if you want. Ethel went grocery shopping for me when I first got here. I forgot to tell her I wasn’t much of a cook. She bought a bunch of stuff I can’t make,” I said, trying to explain my full freezer and why I ate cereal for breakfast.
    “Cool, I wish my freezer was as stocked as yours is. I’m lucky if I have milk that isn’t expired in my fridge.” Troy grabbed the eggs from the fridge and cracked six into a bowl.
    “I’ll grab the bacon,” I mumbled, trying to make myself useful.
    “Can you stick it in the microwave for a couple of minutes to thaw it out?”
    “Sure.” I shoved it in the microwave and turned it on defrost. “So, how come if you can cook you don’t have any food in your house?”
    “Because I don’t know how to cook for one person. The meals I always make end up enough to feed an army. Whenever I cook, it’s normally something I make for work and then I can share it with Meg and Cyn.” Troy explained as he dumped the eggs into the frying pan and turned the burner on.
    “Don’t you have to have the pan hot before you add the eggs?” I wasn’t Martha Stewart, but I did know the basics of cooking, at least I thought I did.
    “Naw, you got to cook scrambled eggs low and slow. Meg taught me that. She can cook a leather shoe and it would taste good. That chick has got the magic touch when it comes to baking or cooking.”
    “She cooked all the food for your party, right?” I asked, remembering the pulled pork that had melted in my mouth. It was divine. I had thought that Ethel had cooked it.
    “Oh yeah. That was definitely Meg’s pork. I told her the only way I would let her throw me a party is if she made the pork, tacos, and red velvet