88. Chapter 86 #2
When his eyes dip to the things in my arms, I take the opportunity to sidestep away from the dining room table and toward the door, but my attempt at escape is immediately stopped by Derek.
“Good morning, baby,” he greets me, coming out from the kitchen with a third plate in his hand and an arm outstretched, open and waiting for a hug.
“Uh, good morning,” I reply automatically, eyes dipping to the plate and then longingly toward the door. “I was actually just going to—”
I point a finger in the general direction of the door, but Derek smiles and shakes his head, like I’m some sort of cute, misbehaving puppy.
With that arm still extended, he crosses the distance between us and wraps it around my shoulders, turning me toward the table. “Breakfast, then I’ll drive you back to campus.”
“No, really, I need to get goi—” I try again, but the pressure he is applying is just firm enough that I would need to do more than dig my heels in to make the forward momentum stop.
“Derek, seriously,” I try again as the table looms closer, but snap my mouth closed when I see the table setup.
Xavier with his cup of sadness, a hot chocolate, and then Derek’s coffee.
I’m going to be trapped between the two of them.
My momentary distraction ends with me sitting in a chair with food in front of me, all my belongings still clutched in my arms against my chest. I stare down at the plate and feel my mouth fill with saliva.
It really does smell good.
Some sort of fancy-looking toast on the bottom, avocado spread across the full length, bacon slices, a poached egg, and some sort of nutty-looking herb sprinkled on top. Plus, there is a white crumbly cheese sprinkled everywhere and a dark brown sauce artistically drizzled all over the place.
Literally, my new favorite breakfast obsession.
Maybe I could just stay for breakfast? Let them do the talking around me, but not actually commit to anything?
I peek a look in Xavier’s direction and catch him watching me over the lip of his mug as he takes a sip.
My eyes drift down to his chest, not because I’m checking him out, but because there is a huge white square stuck to his pec.
Frowning, I carefully let go of my things with one arm and reach out to stroke my fingers over it, then lift my eyes back up to his.
He stares back before using his free hand to capture mine and lower both to the table, not answering my unasked question.
First, he disappears for a week, and the next time I see him, he has a mysterious bandage on his chest. What the fuck?
I tug on my hand, trying to get it back, but he tightens his grip. With an exasperated sigh, I roll my eyes. “Xavier, I need that to eat.”
His fingers tighten for a second, but he does let go. He doesn’t stop staring, though.
And after a week of not having him constantly around me, I would have thought that I found it disturbing, but it feels more like a warm blanket. Something I’m not going to overanalyze on an empty stomach.
Now that my hand is free, I carefully arrange my things on the table in front of my plate, where I can keep an eye on them. They will absolutely not be disappearing on me again.
Picking up my knife and fork, I stare at the delicious-looking stack in front of me and quickly determine that this is not going to be all that easy to eat. One wrong move, and the whole thing is going to topple over.
There is a quiet cough from Derek’s direction, and I automatically glance over at him, but he is looking down at his food, cutting through the egg so that it runs down all sides of his stack.
Then he cuts a portion of the bread, avocado, and bacon, scoops up some egg, then touches some of the brown drizzles with the toast and pops the whole thing into his mouth.
Right. Okay. I can do that.
I mimic his actions and put the food in my mouth.
Motherfucker.
It tastes amazing.
My eyes start to drift close as I savor the bite, swallowing a portion, and then—
“So, Emery, about last night.”
The food lodges itself in my throat, and the fancy toast scratches with every hacking cough I make as I try to get it out. Derek stands and hands me my hot chocolate, his hand rubbing a soothing circle on my back as I all but die at his table.
Once I have everything under control again, I glare at him with tears on my cheeks and a slightly runny nose. “Seriously?” I demand, voice hoarse in a very non-sexy way.
There is a light pink stain to his cheeks, but he raises an eyebrow. “The whole point of this breakfast is to talk about last night and what it means moving forward.”
“You couldn’t have waited until I’d at least gotten to eat some of the food before you used it to try and kill me?” I take another sip of my hot chocolate, which now that I’m not using it to lubricate my throat, tastes freaking amazing, like it’s made of actual melted chocolate or something.
“I thought ripping off the Band-Aid might be the best way to go,” he responds, prepping another bite of his food.
Deciding I’m not going to tempt death that way again, I pull a piece of the bacon out and nibble on it, occasionally dipping it into the runny egg, and do my fucking best to act as nonchalant as possible, even though those goddamn butterflies are playing volleyball with that one bite of food.
“What’s there to talk about, exactly? I was lured here under false pretenses, and then you kept me against my will.
Was it fun? Mostly, sure. Does it change anything? No.”
When the silence stretches a little too long, I look up, eyes darting between the two of them. Xavier is busily working away at his breakfast, which is almost half gone already. But Derek? His jaw is doing that super tense thing, where I can actually see the little muscle on the side ticking.
“What do you mean, it doesn’t change anything? It changes everything.”
I frown at him. “How do you figure that?”
Derek’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he lowers his knife and fork to the table. “Emery…”
“So…what? We had sex. Twice. And now because I came on your cock and have your teeth marks on my ass cheek, I suddenly have to accept that everything is all good between us? People have sex and walk away from each other all the time.” I laugh incredulously.
“Fuck, seriously? Another unilateral decision made by Derek. Fabulous.”
Derek shakes his head, irritation rolling off him in waves. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Sounds like it was,” I mutter and crunch on my bacon, ripping a piece off into my mouth.
“Wait, hold on. Teeth marks? What teeth marks?”