Page 171 of On the Breakaway

Avery is wrapped in one of the blankets from her couch, sitting on a stool at the kitchen island with her hair piled messily on top of her head. She’s nursing a mug of coffee with both hands, still half asleep, while she watches me cook.

Or rather, watches my ass.

I catch her staring when I turn from the stove. “You’re not subtle.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.” Her lips tilt up as she takes another sip.

I laugh and shake my head before turning back toward the skillet. The eggs are almost done, and the bacon is crispy. Now, I’m just waiting on the toaster.

Behind me, Avery stands up off the stool, circling into the kitchen. When her arms wrap around me, I lean into the lazy hug. I glance down at her, taking in the way my t-shirt slips off one shoulder and hangs almost to her knees. It does dangerous things to my brain.

She purses her lips and lays her head back, squeezing me harder.

“Still pouting?” I ask.

“You woke me up.”

“It’s ten.”

“But we didn’t go to sleep until three.”

“That’s still seven hours, Chaos.”

She huffs out a breath, stealing a piece of bacon from the plate and groaning when she takes a bite.

Her weight leans heavily into me, and I’m not even sure she realizes how easily the affection is coming to her. But I do.

“Go sit on the couch,” I say, kissing her forehead as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’ll bring it to you.”

She grins, then slides away, and when I look back, she’s already buried beneath a pile of blankets.

I try to tell my head to slow down, that I’m supposed to be patient while she comes to terms with just how good we could be together, but it’s nearly impossible when I can see it so plainly.

Mornings like this, nights like last night, fighting with her and loving her all the same. It really could be that easy if she’d let it be.

Wyatt’s words play through my head, and I bury the nagging thought that maybe she’ll never be ready.

The sound of her phone vibrating on the kitchen island pulls me back to the present.

Avery immediately groans. “Can you see who it is?”

I glance over my shoulder at it. “Your dad.”

Her face falls, the easy smile of the morning disappearing entirely.

“I’m ignoring it.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, he’s calling because he wants to one-up my mom and come visit. I don’t feel like dealing with it.”

My mind can’t wrap around the fact that he would only call for that, but considering it’s not my family, I leave it alone.

But then, the phone starts vibrating again.

“Still him?” She asks, glancing over at me.

I check it.