Chapter Nine
The next morning, I’m up before Willa, so I decide to make us breakfast.
As I pad around the kitchen in bare feet, the sweats I slept in hanging low but my loose T-shirt keeping me decent, I think about my new roommate.
I like that girl; there’s no denying it. I had a fun time hanging out by the pool with her last night. We had a little bit of a moment there, but thankfully the lightning and thunder put a stop to it.
That was fortuitous, because I really would like for us to be friends. Hell, I wouldn’t even want to start anything romantic with her. What I told her is true—those types of relationships always go sideways for me.
So, yeah, friends it is.
I just wish I wasn’t so fucking attracted to her. It’s not just Willa’s beauty and fantastic body that captivate me. I think she’s cute and funny and great to hang out with as well.
“Just stop now,” I scold myself as I crack an egg into the skillet I just placed on the stove. “Focus on making breakfast.”
That’s what I do, and before long, I’ve thrown together a feast of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, mini blueberry pancakes with maple syrup, and toast.
“Oh my God, what smells so good?” I hear Willa say from the doorway.
I glance over from where I’m shoveling eggs onto a plate and watch her walk into the kitchen. As she plops down in a chair at the table, I notice she’s wearing the same outfit she had on last night.
I guess she was so tired that she crashed before she had time to change. Hell, I barely made it out of my clothes and into my sweats myself.
Clearing my throat, I focus back on plating the food and say, “Since I was up before you, I made us breakfast.”
“Wow, that was really nice,” she replies. “Thank you.”
Still focused on my task at hand, I go on. “I hope you like scrambled eggs and bacon. But if not, I made blueberry pancakes too.”
“Yum,” she says. “It all sounds good. I think I’ll have a little bit of everything, if that’s okay.”
“Of course,” I say, chuckling. I glance over at her and smile. Her strawberry blonde hair is up on her head in a messy bun, and she looks über cute right now. “Do you want toast too?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes, please.”
I like a girl with a healthy appetite. I just hope she enjoys my food.
I resume filling our plates, and then I bring both over to the table. I already put filled glasses of orange juice at our place settings earlier, so we’re set there.
“Breakfast is served,” I say in a formal tone as I place her plate in front of her.
She breathes in deeply. “Shane, this smells and looks so delicious.”
As I take a seat at the table with her, I say, “Hopefully, it’ll taste just as good.”
“I’m sure it will,” she murmurs as she takes a small bite of the scrambled eggs. A beat later, her bright green eyes widen, and after she swallows, she points her fork at the plate and says, “Holy crap, these eggs are next-level.”
I can’t help but feel proud. “Thank you,” I say. “My mom actually taught me how to make them nice and fluffy. It’s a family secret, though,” I tease. “So I can’t tell you.”
“Understood,” she says, laughing. “As long as you promise to make them again sometime, I won’t try to get it out of you.”
Chuckling, I assure her, “That I can do.”
After she takes a bite of crispy bacon, she clears her throat, then asks me, “So, where are you from originally? Like, where did you grow up?”
“Boston,” I reply. “Born and raised.”
“Ahh.” She nods. “So you’re an East Coast boy.”
Proudly, I state, “Through and through.” I take a sip of juice. Then, after setting my glass back down on the table, I ask her, “What about you? I know you live there now, but are you from Phoenix originally?”
“I am,” she confirms. “I love it there. I even attended Arizona State. That’s where I met Shay.”
I nod once. “Got it.” I take a bite of eggs, and then, as I’m swiping a napkin over my mouth, I tell her something I’ve been thinking about since she mentioned their wedding planning business. “By the way, I’m impressed that you and your friend run your own company at such a young age.”
She smiles at me. “Thanks,” she says. “But I’m not that young.”
“Oh yeah?” I cock my head to the side. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
I snort. “That’s young, girl. Hell, I’m twenty-seven. I guess that makes me over the hill.”
She laughs, then shakes her head and says, “No, not at all. I guess when you think about it, we’re both doing okay for being in our mid-twenties.”
Chuckling, I reply, “Yeah, I’d say so.”
As we work on finishing up with breakfast, we talk about the day ahead.
“I’m seeing a lazy beach day on the agenda,” I declare.
Pointing her fork at me, she says, “That sounds great. I think I’ll join you.”
Hell, it’s not like we have a ton of options. Not to mention, lazy beach days are exactly why we’re here.
“Cool,” I reply.
Once we’re done eating, we once again work together on cleaning up the kitchen.
“What a team,” she says, raising her hand when the last plate is loaded into the dishwasher.
Laughing, I high-five her, then say, “I’m going to go get ready to hit the beach.”
“Same,” she replies. “Meet you out there in about twenty minutes?”
“Sounds good. If I get there first, I’ll save you a lounger,” I tease.
That makes her laugh.
Damn, I love to see her smile.
But what I’m really going to love is seeing Willa in a swimsuit.
Please let it be a bikini.