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“I can understand that. I needed music more after you…” The unspoken words pulsed between us. “We’ll have to figure out what you’re passionate about. I’ll make it my quest,” I said, filling the silence before it turned heavy with pain and recrimination.
Her smile lit up the room and filled the hollow place in my chest. “Maybe we could start that quest with some breakfast?”
I smirked. Aya remained an early riser who preferred a large meal soon after waking. Good to know some things hadn’t changed. Just as I’m sure she remembered I was more than willing to forego any large meal and graze on snacks.
“What’s your pleasure?” I asked.
She bit her lip, her eyes darkening as she took in my bare chest. Her heated look caused my breathing to shallow.
“How about huevos rancheros con chorizo? I haven’t had that in years.” She made a humming noise in the back of her throat, eyes alight.
“I’m sure Steve can whip that up.”
She frowned. “Steve’s here?”
“He is.” I cleared my throat. “He’s my biological father.” I shrugged, though a bubble seemed lodged behind my ribs, not growing, not moving…just stuck. My relationship with Steve was one of the details in my life I needed to fix.
She reared back, eyes wide. “Steve? And your mom?” She opened her mouth, shut it. Then shook her head. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“I had this weird feeling after he learned about the music. You know, the songs in my head. He kept asking me questions about that.”
A wrinkle tugged at her brows. “He did, didn’t he?”
“But it was Brad who told me Steve had an affair with my mom.”
Aya pursed her lips. “Let me guess: that night.” She tilted her head to the side. “A lot happened to us in twenty-four hours.”
“Yeah, it did.”
She shook her head. “Tell me about Steve.”
“We had a falling out around the time I went into rehab. Well, that was the second falling out. We’ve been talking since he came to visit me during my last week there, and he stays in the guesthouse out back. He’s taken on chef duties—”
“Because you still can’t boil water?” Aya asked with a giggle.
“I can make you a cup of tea.”
“Fair point. But who is he to you?”
“He’s Steve. I know he’s my dad, but that’s as far as we’ve gotten.”
Aya rose up over me and dropped a soft kiss to my lips. The added benefit was her pelvis now aligned with mine. I wanted to grip her hips and grind my engorged, aching dick against her softness, but I wasn’t sure exactly where we stood. And I definitely didn’t want to mess up this fragile second chance with a quick screw—no matter how good it would feel. And it would feel amazing.
I groaned, my fingers tightening on her hips, pressing into the taut muscle of her ass.
“As nice as sex would be, I’m not sure I’m ready…” Her eyes were wide, filled with both trepidation and desire. The concern overpowered the lust.
“You don’t have to apologize…”
“I’m really hungry,” she said after a moment. “Like languishing. I didn’t eat yesterday because I was nervous.” She rolled off me and darted toward the bathroom.
I stacked my good arm behind my head, pillowing my head against my elbow. “Just so you know, I’m going to fantasize about washing your delectable body,” I called.
She stuck her head out, the toothbrush I’d given her last night in her mouth and white foam blossoming across her lips. “After I eat, we’ll talk about you doing that sometime,” she managed to get out around the toothbrush.
I chuckled. Already I felt more energized and happier than I could remember—even if sexually frustrated. I shifted my hips, seeking a release that wouldn’t come, not without Aya’s warm heat surrounding me. But I was content to sit with it for now.
4
