Page 20 of Catching Flynn

“He already knows.” Colton clapped Zavier once on the shoulder. “Keep me updated.”

Then he was moving toward the front with that same easy confidence that never looked like effort. Which fooled some into testing that effortless stride. They always found out the hard way.

Zavier slid his gaze toward Flynn.

Despite the breakfast they'd eaten before leaving the apartment, Flynn was digging into the biscuits and gravy like he was starving. Steam curled up around his mate’s shoulders, softening the edges of his features for a second. His hair was purposely messy, and the dark lashes against his cheek when he glanced down made possessive pull tight in Zavier’s gut.

Mine.

A soft growl rumbled through his tiger. In fact, it hadn’t stopped since finding that note. Zavier was just as pissed, but his cat needed to chill.

“You’re really eating that?” Zavier sat forward. Flynn’s morning dew scent curled around his senses, and he greedily inhaled.

Glancing up, Flynn pointed his fork at Zavier. “You say that like you aren’t one deep breath away from making out with your French toast. No judgement, but it might get messy.”

The powdered sugar and fruit compote covered most of his plate. Cavities were already forming just from being in proximity. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert wearing a disguise.”

His mate wore a shit-eating grin. “Says the guy hovering a little too closely. Go ahead. You know you wanna eat it. Look how sexy those strawberries are drowning in such syrupy goodness.”

Swear to god, if Zavier started blushing, he was never eating in public with his mate again.

Liar. You’d blush a hundred times over just to be near him.

Tinges of pink and red blossomed across Flynn’s delicate features. Zavier wanted to strip his mate just to see how far it had traveled down his body.

Color returning was a good sign. Even if it was temporary, his mate wasn’t thinking about that damn note. His shoulders were relaxed, and he was making eye contact and engaging with others.

Good.

Zanier cut a piece of French toast then took a bite. Sweet, rich, and softer than he’d expected. Zavier was about to smash it. “That’s obnoxiously good.”

Flynn gasped and sat back. “I knew it!”

“You knew nothing.” Zavier ate two more pieces, savoring every bite.

“No shame in moaning over food. If there was, I would be the most shameful guy in town.”.” Flynn jabbed his fork in Zavier’s direction again, more animated now. “Big, growly, muscly man judges breakfast like he’s a food critic, then gets seduced by cinnamon.”

A laugh broke from Zavier. “You talk too much.”

“No shame in moaning over food. If there was, I would be the most shameful guy in town.”.” Flynn jabbed his fork in Zavier’s direction again, more animated now. “Big, growly, muscly man judges breakfast like he’s a food critic, then gets seduced by cinnamon.”

A laugh broke from Zavier. “You talk too much.”

“And yet you keep listening.” Flynn scooped up gravy with another torn-off piece of biscuit, then paused. “Try this.”

He held the fork out halfway across the table, grinning like a fool, leaving Zavier sucker punch at the sight of his mate offering him food. Staring into his green eye, Zavier slid his lips over the tines, his tongue darting out to catch a drop of gravy.

Flynn’s lips parted, gaze focused on Zavier’s mouth as he chewed.

“Good?” Flynn asked, bubbling with anticipation.

Zavier sat back. “Made better by the person feeding it to me.”

“Flirt.” Flynn glanced down at his own plate, fingers strangling the fork.

The knife slid effortlessly through the French toast and pool of syrup. Zavier cut off a triangle of French toast, making sure there was a strawberry included, then held it out. “Your turn, kitten.”

Flynn stared at the fork with a crinkled nose. “That is a very intimate amount of powdered sugar.”