Once I enter the spacious kitchen, I make a beeline for the coffee maker because caffeine is pretty much how I survive. Unfortunately, Knox beats me to it. I don’t miss the smirk on his face as he pours what’s left in the coffee pot into his mug and takes a sip. Bastard. “Here,” Trent offers, pushing his cup toward me when I take a seat at the table. “It’s my fourth one so far, and your mother thinks I should cut down.”
