(BLUE'S POV)
Breakfast was chaos.
Pure, beautiful, glorious chaos.
The dining table—which I had extended to its full length—was crowded with plates of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, golden pancakes, fresh fruit, toast, and a mountain of pastries that Victor had apparently made without telling anyone.
"Wait, Victor made pastries?" Jake asked, his mouth full of croissant.
"Victor made pastries," Victor confirmed, looking insufferably pleased with himself.
"Victor, you beautiful monster, I take back everything I said about you."
"You said I was weird and unstable."
"Emphasis on 'take back'."
"I don't believe you."
"Believe me, Victor. I'm being sincere."
"You're still eating my croissant."
"I'm appreciating your croissant."
"That's not the same thing."
At the other end of the table, Abigail was trying to convince baby Violet to try a small piece of pancake, while Dylan watched with amused exasperation.
