Page 95 of Under Her

I go over to her, positioning myself between her legs. I take the glass from her and have a drink before handing it back to her.

“So, what are we making?” I ask her.

She puts the glass down. “How do you feel about waffles?”

“It’s the food of gods.”

She smiles. “Well, I was thinking I could make us banana waffles with Nutella if you have any. I make the best banana waffles known to man.”

“Marry me,” I say.

She laughs.

But I’m only half-kidding.

She makes waffles and fucks like a porn star.

She’s frigging perfect.

She presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. Then, she hops down off the counter, and we get to work.

Morgan’s just mixing up the waffle batter when my phone chimes a text.

It’s Coop in our group chat.

Coop: What’s the plan for tonight? We doing the usual?

Shit. It’s Saturday. Boys’ night. I didn’t even think about it.

“Everything all right?” Morgan asks.

I realize I’ve been staring at my phone for a while.

“Yeah, fine. It’s just Coop.”

I look back at my phone and tap out a reply.

Me: I can’t make it tonight. Sorry, guys. Next week for sure.

He replies a few seconds later.

Coop: You’d better be either dying or getting your cock serviced by a porn star if you’re ducking out on tonight.

I chuckle to myself and glance over at Morgan, who’s pouring the batter onto the waffle maker.

Me: No, to the first. And, yes, to the second but not by a porn star.

By someone way, way better than a porn star.

Coop: You’re off the hook. You can tell me all the deets at brunch tomorrow.

I hesitate. I don’t want to flake out on my boys twice in a row. But I’ve got Morgan here. If I go to brunch, she’ll leave, and I don’t know when she’ll come back.

“You’re awfully quiet over there. Are you just pretending to text to get out of cooking?”

I lift my eyes to her smiling ones.

“Me? Never. No, I’m just texting Coop about tomorrow.”