Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
J USTIN
The second morning in a row, I wake up to the smell of food. I don’t remember my place smelling so good before. Ever. I look around—Kayla isn’t in bed, of course, though it would be nice to wake up to her warm body snuggled up to mine.
To wake up. To fucking wake up ? Did I sleep again? I listen to my body, and yes. I slept again. Two nights in a row. Like a normal human. Those orgasms must be pretty magical if they knock me down that fast.
I pull sweats on and walk toward the smell.
And stand shocked. My apartment is clean, like spotless clean. I look around and don’t recognize my place; there are no more food boxes or cans lying on every surface, no more trash, cushions are neatly placed on the couch, dishes are done, and the counter is sparkly .
“Hey.” My voice is rough.
She jumps, startled, and turns around. “Oh, hey.”
“Expected someone else?” I smirk.
“No.” She laughs nervously. “Just didn’t expect you to wake up so early.”
“It’s eleven,” I deadpan.
“I’ve seen you around town looking for coffee at ungodly hours before.” She rolls her eyes with a hidden smile.
“Yeah, with insomnia, you never know when it hits and when you will wake up.” I scratch the scruff on my chin. I probably need to shave. “Why are you up so early?”
“I’m used to waking up early. The diner opens up at six-thirty.” That’s right. Normal people have normal patterns.
“You cleaned.” Somehow, it sounds like I’m accusing her, and her cheeks turn pink.
“I didn’t mean anything by that. I mean, your place is nice.”
“My place is a shithole that needed a good cleaning. Thanks for the help here.” I go and kiss her cheek. Her lips form a cute o .
“Welcome,” she squeaks.
“You didn’t have to do that, though.”
“Who would do that, though?”
“Touché.” I laugh and go to the coffee machine, where a full pot of fresh brew is waiting for me. Did I wake up in heaven?
“Want some breakfast?” she offers, pointing at the stove.
“That would be amazing.” I take a seat at the table with my coffee and relax. “You look good this morning. Though limping a little. Why is that?” I don’t want to sound smug, but I can’t help myself. Last night was off the charts, and Kayla woke something I never thought I had in me.
“Awfully full of yourself, I see.” She narrows her eyes at me, but there is no anger in them, only a twinkle of good humor.
I lean back in the chair. “Well, I’m kind of responsible for that, I guess.
” But there is no remorse in my voice, only the pleasure of knowing she’ll be walking around the whole day, remembering me with every step she takes.
Then I stop smiling, reminding myself that Kayla doesn’t have much experience, even if she could have fooled me. “Are you really that sore?”
“Yeah.”
I wince. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“You did.” She laughs. So carefree and loud.
Just like she did with the fuckface. Like she had never done with me before.
Like I’m her people. Her face changes; it looks brighter, her eyes sparkle like diamonds in the sun, I swear, and I’m about to spontaneously produce some poetry.
“You totally did, especially because of that last time when I was trying to crawl away, but you pulled me back into that never-ending marathon.” Fuck, how do I explain to her that my dick has been on hiatus for months, and now it’s regaining its appetite for only her, and she’s the only one who can feed the fucker.
“Alright, I did mean it, but I didn’t want you to be sore today.” I totally did. She needs to know who was between her legs all night. Me. Only me. But I also hate to see her wincing in pain every time she walks.
“It’s a good kind of sore.” Her cheeks pinken, her lips turn into a cute bow, and I find myself smiling like a fool.
“Oh, yeah?” I lean my elbow on the table. “How good?”
“Very good.” Her cheeks turn bright red.
“Now shut up and eat.” She places one plate in front of me and the other in front of the chair across from me.
I grab it and move it next to mine. She watches and carefully sits at the newly assigned place.
I casually put my hand on her thigh like it’s the most natural thing in the world and grab my fork with the other.
She stills for a moment, then grabs her own utensils and digs into her food. My plate is overflowing with home fries, bacon, and eggs. I didn’t even know I had anything even remotely potato-looking.
“You have a weird obsession with apples. You have all sorts of them, and they take up half of the fridge.”
I chuckle at that. Alex was always busting on me ever since we were kids, telling me that I would turn into a rabbit with my next apple. “I love them; what can I say,” I say with a full mouth of food. “What are you doing today?”
“Well, hopefully, not getting fired, for a start.”
I choke on my food. “What? Why?”
“I overslept, and when I woke up, it was eight-thirty. The diner has long been open by now.”
“Ouch. I’d be scared to call Marina.” I wince as if in pain, imagining the wrath of that woman.
Her laughter is light. “Trust me, I was. Turns out, she called the new girl in this morning, so everything worked out.”
“You know she would never fire you, right?” I ask between bites.
“I know.” She sighs. “It’s just that I hate to let her down. It’s hard work to cook for so many people, especially in the morning, and if you also have to wait on them, you’re toast by nine.”
“Yeah, she has a lot of customers.” To think of it, the diner always has people in it, unlike any other place here.
“That’s because her food is good.” She looks at me pointedly, daring me to contradict her .
“I had the pleasure of trying it myself yesterday.” I pat my belly.
“Speaking of yesterday…” She drinks her coffee and swats my hand away from her thigh where it took a permanent residency. “What was that?”
“What?” I blink at her, hoping like hell she doesn’t mean the feelings part.
“You were clearly jealous of Archie. Why?” She crosses her hands over her chest.
“Because I don’t like the fuckface.”
“What did he ever do to you for you to hate him so much?” Then she laughs. “Wait, nothing, right? That’s the pattern with you.”
“Kayla,” I growl as I put the fork down.
“What? You were acting like a possessive gorilla the whole time. And then when I asked you why, you didn’t have an answer.
Then, mind you, you proceeded to chat with your girlfriend, who you’re clearly still hung up on, and then you had the audacity to blame me for spending time with Archie.
” There is a bitter note in her voice that I don’t like.
“She is not my girlfriend,” I say through clenched teeth. “And I’m not hung up on her.”
“Could have fooled me,” she snorts.
“What did you expect me to do? To rip her hands off for touching me?”
“Sounds like a good idea to me.” She shrugs.
“What did you do when the fuckface was all over you?” I counter her.
Her spine straightens. “If you must know, we were talking about business.”
I snort. “What sort of business can you have with him?”
“He wants to hire me to work for him, you asswipe! Do you think I’m too stupid to do any sort of business with anyone?” She jumps from the chair and goes to the bedroom.
I follow her. “Kayla, wait. That’s not what I meant.”
“Yep, sure.” She takes my T-shirt off but stays in her bra and panties, and my dick takes notice. Not now, fucker. Down, boy. She then proceeds to pull her dress over her head, and I have to take action before this amazing morning is completely destroyed.
“Kayla.” I try to sound gentle and not needy, but she keeps going without acknowledging me, so I bark an order.
“Kayla, stop.” It seems to work because she stops and focuses her attention on me.
A win. I slowly move toward her, careful not to scare her away.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that he’s too dangerous to do any business with. Especially for you.”
“Why is it especially for me?”
I swallow the dryness in my throat, contemplating if, for once, I should just go with the truth. “Because of how fucking beautiful and sexy you are.”
“Oh.” It’s all she says, her mouth ajar. Her cute little tongue peeks out and licks her lips, and I’m a goner.
I groan and close the last little bit of distance separating us and pull her into me. She doesn’t fight me, and plants her hands on my chest. It’s a glorious feeling, her in my arms. The right one.
I take my time with her this time, exploring every single detail of every single tattoo that I neglected yesterday with my tongue.