“You could just stay naked, you know. I wouldn’t complain.”
“The neighbors might if there’s a fire alarm in the night,” I counter as I pull on a set of pajama shorts and a tank. I don’t bother with the bra. Considering the man’s been inside me tonight, there’s really no reason for false modesty. When I reappear in the room, he hasn’t moved to put on his clothes or leave which is curious.
“You mind if I take a quick shower?”
Ah. That makes sense. I smile at him, taking in one last look before I lose this for good.
“No. Go ahead.”
“Thanks, Spitfire.” He brushes a kiss on my temple as he passes by me.
Once he disappears into the bathroom, I climb into bed, realizing how exhausted I am from the day when I hit the pillows. I’ll just close my eyes for a few and be up again when he leaves to lock the door behind him.
* * *
The next morningwhen I wake up it takes me a minute to remember the previous night’s events. I blink awake, realizing I never said goodbye to him and checking to make sure the bed is empty next to me. His clothes are gone, and the other side of the bed is cold, so I’m guessing he left after he took his shower last night and didn’t want to wake me up. I’d been counting on him slinking out in the middle of the night, so I’m not surprised or distressed to find myself alone.
Which is why I nearly jump at the sound of his voice.
“You’re up.” He leans against the door frame in a way that is entirely too sexy for this early in the morning. “I got donuts and coffee. I didn’t know if you had a potential hangover routine, so I went for something tried and true.”
“I’m not hungover,” I announce as I practically jump out of bed, and immediately realize from the throbbing sensation in my temples that I am in fact a little bit hungover.
“Right. I also got something with electrolytes in it, just in case. You know. For yournothangover.” He grins.
“Okay. Um. Thank you. I’ll just get dressed and be out in a minute.”
He nods and heads back to the living room while I dodge into my closet. My mind is spinning with theslighthangover and the fact that Tobias is still here and being all cheery and thoughtful. Very much not the fuck-and-run I expected.
Once I change and run a brush through my hair, throwing it up off my shoulders, I head out to face whatever fate is awaiting me in the dining room. When I walk out, he looks up from his phone, his eyes dropping over my outfit and then back up to my face.
“Not always vintage. I wondered.” The smile I get this morning is the same charming one from last night, and I can’t help but return it.
“Not always. No.”
“I realized when I got there, I didn’t know how you take your coffee. So I got ice, creamer, milk, sugar, and a couple of shots of vanilla on the side. Hopefully one of them works?” His brows knit together, and I nod.
“Yeah, that’ll work. Thank you, so much. You really didn’t have to do that. I figured you would have left last night.”
“Nah. Can’t get rid of me that easy, Spitfire.”
“Don’t you have practice?”
“Yeah. I have to go in a few minutes, but I just wanted to be sure I got you something. Between the horsemen and the pink champagne and all.”
“Yeah. I think I’ll have to try to pick one vice at a time in the future.”
“Only turn thirty once.”
“True. The champagne was amazing by the way, and I’m sure it was expensive. So again, thank you.”
“Worth it to see you relax a little at dinner.”
“And after, apparently.” I feel weird that we’re dancing around the subject of last night. His face flickers with an emotion I can’t read at the mention of it.
“We’re good though?”
“Yeah. Like you said, I only turn thirty once. Throw in the cold rain with the champagne and apparently it makes for an interesting night.”
