Chapter 26
I didn’t realize breakfast is a gateway drug.
Addy
I try to roll over but the arm around my waist holds me tightly in place.
“You’re not allowed to run away again,” Gage rumbles in his scratchy morning voice, I want to hear every morning for the rest of my life.
“I’m not allowed to?” I ask, instead of focusing on how much I love the idea of waking up to Gage every morning. I prefer to live my life in the real world. Not on a fantasy island.
He rolls me until we’re facing each other. “Let me rephrase. We’re dating. We had sex. There’s no reason to run.”
“Not even if I’m worried about how you’ll respond to me criticizing your performance?”
He growls and pulls me closer. “Criticizing my performance?”
I widen my eyes and attempt to appear innocent. “Do you not handle criticism well?”
“I can handle criticism from Coach Cha-Cha when I miss a blitz pickup. But there’s no reason for you to criticize my performance from last night.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I felt your tight pussy try to squeeze the life out of my cock three times.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Three times?”
He grunts before climbing on top of me. “If you want a repeat, all you have to do is ask.”
I giggle. “Are you hungry? Because you chomped down on my tease pretty quickly.”
His stomach growls in response.
“You are hungry.”
He shrugs. “I missed dessert last night. And I didn’t get my midnight snack.”
I lift an eyebrow. “You didn’t?”
His cock hardens and lengthens against me. “I might need another taste of that particular midnight snack.”
I shiver. He can snack on me whenever he wants. His stomach rumbles again. I’ll have to wait.
“Let’s get you fed before your stomach eats itself.”
He kisses my nose. “I’ll make you breakfast.”
My mouth gapes open. “You’re going to cook?”
“Don’t look so surprised. I’ve cooked you pasta before.”
I snort. “Anyone can cook pasta and heat up a jar of sauce. It’s not difficult.”
“Are you challenging me? How do you feel about chocolate chip pancakes? ”
Now, it’s my stomach’s turn to growl. He chuckles before launching himself off me. He bends over to pick up a pair of shorts from the floor, and his ass bunches with the movement.
Damn. His muscles are lean and defined. And I got to touch every single one last night. My fingers tingle with the need to touch again. Who knows when I’ll get another chance? After all, he’s leaving at the end of the summer. At which point, he’ll—
Nope. I stop those thoughts before they can materialize. I search for a subject – any subject – to get my mind off the future.
“Hold on. How are you going to make chocolate chip pancakes? Your suite only has a microwave.”
“Look around, songbird. We’re not in my suite.”
I scan the room to discover he’s right. This isn’t his suite. “Why did you move rooms?”
“I moved into one of the chalets for you.”
“For me?”
“The chalets are private. You can walk to your car without bumping into anyone. I don’t want you to be embarrassed if someone catches you walking out of my suite.”
I bristle. “I’m not embarrassed.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and I have to force myself to keep my gaze on his face. His muscles are entirely too distracting.
“And your face wasn’t bright red the morning I escorted you to my SUV to pick up Otis from jail either.”
I tilt my chin up. “Maybe I was worried about Otis. ”
He chuckles. “Get dressed. I’ll get started on breakfast.”
I wait until he’s gone to hop out of bed. I grab my clothes and make my way to the bathroom. I freeze at the entrance. This isn’t a bathroom. It’s a spa. The bathtub is big enough for two people, and the shower could probably fit Gage’s entire team in it.
I force myself out of my stupor and make quick work of getting dressed. I dig around in the drawer of the vanity to discover extra toothbrushes, facial cleaning wipes, lotion, shampoo… pretty much every beauty product in existence.
I finish and make my way out of the bedroom into the main area of the chalet. I didn’t notice much of it last night. But now I take my time looking around. There’s a patio door to an outside area, which has a hot tub. There’s also a full living room with a television bigger than most movie screens.
“This place is amazing. How much are you paying for it?” I ask when I reach the open kitchen area.
He glances at me over his shoulder. “The team foots most of the bill.”
“Wow. I need to push Otis to train more if this is how professional NFL players live.”
He returns his attention to the pan in front of him. “Otis is good. If he wants to go pro, he could. He just needs some discipline.”
“Otis and discipline are not words I’d associate together.” I don’t want to discuss my brother this morning. Too much of my mental space is usually occupied by my siblings. Not today. “How can I help? ”
He nods to the coffee machine in the corner. “Your coffee is ready, and there’s orange juice in the refrigerator if you want some.”
I snatch the coffee from the machine and take a sip. “Yum. What is this?”
“Hazelnut mocha.”
“It’s good. You want one?”
“Black coffee for me.”
I fix him a coffee and hand it to him. “Thanks, songbird.” He kisses my forehead.
“Are you making eggs and pancakes? Weird combo.”
“The pancakes are for you. The eggs are for me. I need to make weight.”
I lift my eyebrows. “A dozen eggs are okay for making weight, but not a pancake?”
“I’ll burn these eggs off during my morning run. The pancakes will sit in my stomach.”
My nose wrinkles. “I’m sorry. Am I messing up your morning routine?”
He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me near. “I’d exchange my normal morning routine of a protein shake and a morning run with waking up beside you in my arms any day.”
I melt into him. “You say the sweetest things.”
“Only to you, songbird. Only to you.” He squeezes me before nudging me toward the refrigerator. “Get the orange juice. Breakfast is nearly ready.”
While he finishes, I pour the juice and set out the napkins and silverware. I sit down to watch him .
“I could get used to this,” I say when he sets a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of me.
“Move in with me and I’ll cook for you every morning.”
“Every morning? Don’t you spend half of your life on the road, living in hotel rooms?”
“Not half of my life.” He digs into his scrambled eggs.
I pour some syrup on my pancakes before trying them. I moan at the delicious taste of chocolate, butter, and maple syrup. “These are good.”
“Some day you’ll stop sounding surprised by my cooking.”
I wish I could spend an abundance of mornings with him. Until his cooking no longer surprises me. Until I no longer wake up tingling from the feel of his arm around me. Until I no longer feel a pit in my stomach at the idea of him leaving.
He wags his fork at me. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you avoided all discussion of moving in with me.”
“Gage.” I huff. “I can’t abandon my family. No matter how much I may wish it otherwise.”
Oops. I didn’t intend to say the last sentence.
“You would move in with me otherwise?”
“Maybe?” I shrug. “We barely know each other.”
He reaches for my hand. “I know enough.”
“You have no idea how grumpy I can get if I don’t get enough sleep. Or how mean I am if someone interrupts my sleep. Or the tricks I play on telemarketers.”
He grins. “Have you met Brock? I can handle grumpy. I get pissed if someone interrupts my sleep, too. And I’d love to find out about the tricks you play on telemarketers. What’s your next argument?”
I wave away his question. “It doesn’t matter. My family needs me.”
“It’s admirable how you care for them.”
“But…”
“But Otis is practically an adult. Penelope is going to rule the world before she graduates from high school. And Mila has her mom.”
“Mila needs an army of moms. Penelope might rule the world someday. But Mila is going to destroy it. Not on purpose, mind you. It’ll be an accident. But the world will still be in ruins.”
He squeezes my hand once before releasing it and digging his fork into his eggs. “Maybe she’ll find a sport and direct all of her attention to it.”
I groan. “I’m afraid of what she’d do to her competitors if she lost.”
His nose wrinkles. “She’d get kicked out of competition.”
“And we’d be right back to where we started. Mila destroying the world.”
“I’ll make sure my agent has my PR firm on speed dial.”
“You have a PR firm?”
“The firm helps build a positive public image for me, manage my social media, and secure brand endorsements.”
“Wow.”
“I should hook you up with my contact. You’ll need a PR manager once your songwriting business takes off.”
“My songwriting business?”
“Juliet Ash is just the beginning. With her connections, you’ll be selling songs to all the top pop singers in no time. You should probably move to Steel City already. You’re going to be there often enough to negotiate contracts.”
I snort. “You never give up, do you?”
His dark chocolate gaze meets mine. “Songbird, I will never give up on you.”
The sincerity in his eyes is clear. He means it. He won’t give up on me. Which is good since I love him.
I love him? How can I love him? I barely know him.
Apparently, my heart doesn’t care. It’s latched onto Gage and isn’t planning to let go anytime soon – if ever.
Gage Edwards is amazing and I want to spend my life with him. Wake up with him every morning. Argue about my siblings over a breakfast he cooked every day. Spend my nights with him.
It’s official. I love Gage Edwards.
But what happens at the end of the summer? Will he leave me the same way my dad did? Without a glance backwards?