Page 86 of That Rush

“Because you opened three cabinets.”

“Efficiently.”

Her gaze follows me while I set a skillet on the stove. After last night, standing barefoot in her kitchen feels as intimate as anything we did in her bed. I like knowing she takes her coffee with one sugar and that she owns exactly one decent frying pan. I could make a routine out of this before she finishes her first cup.

That is precisely why I need to keep this conversation smaller than everything I want.

I face her, leaning back against the counter. “There’s something I want to be clear about.”

Paige lifts her mug. “Your tone says you brought a contract.”

“No contract.”

“A spreadsheet?”

“Paige.”

Her expression shifts when she hears the seriousness in my voice. “Okay. Tell me.”

I turn down the burner. “We agreed last Friday that neither of us is sleeping with anyone else.”

“We did.”

“Last night didn’t change my answer.”

She takes another sip. “Mine either.”

Her immediate answer eases the tension across my shoulders. “Good.”

“So we’re putting a label on this over eggs, rancher?”

“It was a boundary last week. It’s still a boundary.”

She arches a brow. “A boundary that sounds like it drives a truck.”

I slide the eggs onto two plates. “Do you want to keep mocking the boundary, or do you want breakfast?”

“Both.”

I set her plate in front of her, then brace my hands on the other side of the island. “I’m not asking you to define the future over scrambled eggs. I am asking for honesty. If you want someone else, or if this stops working for you, you tell me.”

“Before I act on it.”

“Yes.”

She studies me, alert now beneath the teasing. “Same rule for you.”

“You have it.”

“Is that all you’re asking for?”

“Today.”

Her brow rises. “That wasn’t my question.”

“No. It isn’t all I want.” I hold her gaze because pretending otherwise would break the honesty I just asked from her. “It’s all I’m asking you to agree to over breakfast.”

Her fingers ease around her mug. “I appreciate the distinction.”