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So, I mosey into the kitchen, quietly setting the coffee to brew while I fire up the stove and crack a few eggs, pour some batter in another pan. He’s made me breakfast more than a few times since I've been here and I’ve never had the chance to return the favor.
Delicious smells fill the house, and when I turn around to plate up some of the flapjacks, I see him there, leaning on his forearms across the bar countertop, drinking me in.
So many things pop into my head to say, to ask.
But his soft smile dissolves every thought I had. Straight butterflies.
I plate the food, set the table, and he pours the coffee, adding my almond creamer for me and sitting down to wait for me. Turning off the stove gives me a moment to take a breath before I sit down to join him.
Why am I so nervous?
I just slept all night with him wrapped around me.
We eat in that same comfortable silence, making happy food sounds at each other and letting the morning drag out as long as we can. It’s silly, stupid. It’s the best morning I’ve ever had.
As if on cue, we both take a final sip of coffee, setting down our cups and looking at each other.
“Thank you for breakfast,” he says shyly, like we just hooked up the night before. “I’ve got to head out, so I’m going to change. Don’t clean up. I’ll get it later.”
“But—”
“Go get ready for your lunch date. Take a bath.” A little wink accompanies the statement as he gets up.
“Gav…” I start, but he shakes his head. I’m a little confused as he walks over, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me into a close embrace. His earthy scent and warmth envelope me, my chest swelling with a strange, aching feeling. He breathes deeply, pressing his lips to my head.
We savor it for a few seconds before he lets go, heading to his room to change.
That bubble of happiness chases me into the bathroom, lingering through my scalding hot bubble bath, a pass over my legs with the razor. It has me bopping along to my music as I take the extra time to pin up parts of my hair along the sides of my head, twisting the two strands around the back and flipping them over and through to hold the rest in place.
Next, I pick out my outfit. Evan’s influence and commentary made me anxious at first, paranoid of how I looked. Now, I’m really good at complimenting my figure.
Hmm. Lunch date.
I go casual, but still cute. Jeans, the tight ones that make my butt look great, a slinky, sleeveless burgundy top, and a loose, extra-long cardigan for when I inevitably get cold.
My reflection makes me grin foolishly. I should be worrying over other stuff. Not outfits.
Like the fact that I just snuggled one of the men in my life and I’m about to go out on a date with another.
Not to mention the third guy, who had me creaming all over myself just a few days ago.
Today, it doesn’t bother me one bit.
Things have to settle down at some point. Fall into place. Maybe I have to just let them, sometimes.
I hear the car pull up as I shuffle into the kitchen, brushing my teeth and dumping out my leftover coffee. Gavin is at the door to the sound of a knock, and now I’m wondering if this was a good idea.
“Hi, I’m here for Hellena…”
“Sure thing. Come in. She’s almost ready.” Gavin steps back, looking positively intimidating in his work boots, black jeans, and a T-shirt that looks like it’s fighting for its life against his ripped chest and shoulders.
Tell steps in, glancing my way before turning back to Gavin. “I’m Tell. You’re Hellena’s roommate?” It’s a straight question, no suspicion or hesitation. I’m impressed.
“Pleasure to meet you. Gavin.” They shake hands firmly, do that buddy nod thing that guys do.
There's none of the tension that Evan and Gavin had, none of the flirtatious teasing or posturing. Just Gavin being Gavin, sizing him up for threats.
And Tell being Tell, smiling like a jackal.
