Chapter Thirty-Two
chapter thirty-two
CAIO
I wake up to a soft breeze trailing over my skin, I never shut the window last night, and the cool morning breeze is playing with the curtains allowing the fresh air to flow into the room.
Isla is a dead weight beside me, her head laying heavy on my arm beneath her pillow.
I can barely believe how trashed she was last night. If I hadn’t seen Miles and May plying her with shot after shot, I’d question how she got so drunk in a couple of hours. Tequila is obviously not her drink.
A small smile forms on my lips as I replay last night over in my head. Watching Isla sing her heart out to Britney Spears was absolutely adorable.
The girl can’t sing to save her life but watching her up there with May had my heart melting on sight. She looked so carefree, she absolutely stole my breath away up there in that gorgeous dress.
I just wanted to pick her up off that stage, throw her over my shoulder and bring her home to bed, but the enjoyment I got from seeing her beaming smile under the lights was enough to hold me back. Even seeing Brandon didn’t dampen her spirits, I guess Miles showing up upstaged that debacle.
The look on her face when she heard his voice, I hope I never forget it. It was exactly what I was hoping for when I first thought about reaching out to Miles.
I try to gently ease my arm out from beneath her, but she stirs, and her eyes flutter as I bring my hand out from under her head.
She groans as she covers her eyes with her arm, flinching away from the morning light.
“Mmm, is it the morning?” She grumbles.
“Well, good morning sleepy head.” I go to press a kiss to her lips, but she turns away.
“No!” she snaps, pressing a hand to my chest keeping me at a distance. “Morning vomit breath. No way.” Her expression is so serious it’s adorable.
“You’re ridiculous.” I shake my head before pressing a kiss to her forehead, which she hesitantly allows. “How about you jump in the shower, brush your teeth, and I’ll make us some breakfast. Extra carbs.”
She moves her arm, still shading her eyes but letting me see her face as she raises her eyebrows at that. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
I get out of bed and pull on a pair of gray sweatpants, and when I turn back to her, she’s tucked further into the bed, the covers pulled all the way up. All I can see is her eyes looking at me over the covers, like she wants to devour me for breakfast instead.
“Shower.” I point to the bathroom. “Now.”
“Yes, sir.” She gives me a little salute before climbing out of bed and running to the bathroom. God, that girl’s going to be the death of me.
I stand at the counter staring at the steam rising from where I’ve got a ciabatta panino toasting in a press in front of me.
I zone out as I replay something that Isla said last night.
One sentence that I can’t get out of my head.
One sentence that could mean so much or mean nothing at all.
“ I’m not coming home .” That’s what she said to Brandon.
Did it just slip out? Did she use it just to enforce her feelings towards him, or did she really mean it? My heart skipped a beat when she said it, but I didn’t want to bring it up last night, didn’t want to pressure her. I still don’t, but she needs to know how I really feel about her. She needs to know that she owns my heart.
She comes around the corner, looking perfect. Her hair is still in the braid that I weaved through it last night, and she’s wearing a T-shirt from my wardrobe with her favorite denim shorts that hug her ass perfectly. As much as I love seeing her all dressed up, I love this even more. She looks like mine.
Her eyes light up as she spies the fruit tarts sitting on a plate at the end of the kitchen bench before they flick back to me, then back to the pastries.
“Tell me you didn’t go out to town to get these looking like that.” Her eyes look me up and down, lingering on my bare chest. “Or I’ll have a herd of competition knocking on our door.”
I walk over to her wrapping my arms around her. “Well, for one, we don’t even really have a door. And two, you will never...” I kiss her cheek. “Ever...” I kiss the other one. “Have competition.” I press a final kiss to her mouth. “Didn’t I tell you I’m yours? You think I would’ve tried to kiss your vomit mouth if there was anyone else?”
“Hey!” She smacks my chest and I just chuckle, pulling her closer to me.
“I asked Vanessa to drop them off.”
“Ugh, she’s such an angel.”
“Hey, it was my idea. Where’s my credit?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” The insincere apology is followed up by her climbing into my arms. “Thank you.” She kisses me again, and again my dick comes to attention far too easily.
I spin around placing her on the counter before grabbing a strawberry tart and shoving it in her mouth before we get carried away.
I’m so addicted to her I can’t keep my hands off of her for a second, and I love knowing she’s just as hooked as I am. But food will always win her heart and distract her mind.
“Mmm, so good,” she mumbles, with her mouth completely full.
“Yeah?” I laugh. This girl would eat double her weight in baked goods if she could. It’s surprising she’s not a better baker considering her love for the end result.
We tried to make cookies last week, but when the mixture didn’t exactly look like the picture, she gave up, nearly crying at her failed attempt. She was so upset that I had to distract her with something that she is very, very good at.
The sandwich press clicks from behind me reminding me that it’s even on. I lift the lid, filling the apartment with the smell of the warm bread.
“There’s more?” she asks.
“Extra carbs, remember?”
I plate up the panino and slide it over to her.
“This looks delicious.” Her mouth is nearly watering. She takes a big bite out of the side. “Mmm.”
I chuckle. She almost makes the same noises when she eats that she does when I’m inside of her.
I should tell her now, but part of me doesn’t want to scare her away. How I feel about Isla isn’t like anything I’ve felt for anyone before.
“So,” she starts, interrupting my overthinking. “I was thinking…”
“Yeah?”
“I might go down to Nora’s today, work on something new.”
“Oh really?” I ask.
“Mmhm.” She takes another bite of her sandwich.
“Okay,” I say, making out as if this is a casual thing. Like she hasn’t been building up to this since she got here two months ago. I can’t wait to see what she creates. “You want me to walk you down?”
“It’s okay, I think I might take a bike.” She smiles up at me and my heart melts.
Everything she does absolutely enraptures me. She owns me and she doesn’t even know it, but now isn’t the time to tell her. She is finally going to the studio; I don’t want to do anything to throw her off.
She rinses her plate and slips her shoes on before making her way over to the elevator.
“Here,” I grab another tart from the plate shoving it in a paper bag before I join her at the elevator. “One for the road.”
She rises up on her toes, pressing a loving kiss to my lips. “One for the road.”