“Thanks for the offer, but I should go home,” I say. “I need to work on my proposal before I see my tutor later.”
“Are you sure?”
“Give me five minutes to shower, and I’ll be ready to go.” I sit up and peck his lips. “Love you.” My chest tightens as his expression falls. “Would you rather I didn’t say that?”
“No. You shouldn’t have to hide how you feel.” He brushes his knuckles over my cheekbone. “It’s nice hearing you say it.” He smiles, but sadness lingers in his eyes. “Really nice.”
I bite my lip.
“It is,” he says with more conviction. He leans in and gives me a deep, needy kiss.
“I’d better have that shower.” I curl my hand into his shirt. “But I really don’t want to. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to come back to bed for a few minutes?”
He sighs. “I wish, but I have a nine-o’clock meeting.”
“Shame.”
This time, he doesn’t stop me from pushing the quilt down and getting out of bed. I have a quick shower and use my finger to brush my teeth, then put yesterday’s clothes back on. I’ll have a proper shower when I get home.
I find Jett leaning against his kitchen cupboards, eating cereal. He’s poured a bowl of cereal for me too but has put the milk beside it, presumably so the cereal didn’t get too soggy. My heart melts a little at how thoughtful that was.
“How long do you get for lunch?” I ask as I drown the cereal in milk.
“An hour. But I don’t always take that long. Why?”
There’s no point in asking why he doesn’t take his full lunch break. I’m sure it’s to do with throwing himself into work. Because of Erica. Fucking hell. How long are her actions going to cast a shadow over him?
“Do you want to have lunch together?” I ask.
He widens his eyes.
“It’s okay if you don’t. I can eat at uni between seeing my tutor and my lecture. I just figured that as I had a big long lunch break, it would be nice to say hi.”
“That would be nice.”
I grin. “Really?”
“Yes.” He checks his phone. “I can be free from twelve thirty. Does that work for you?”
“Yes. I’ll have plenty of time to get to my lecture afterwards.”
He points at my bowl. “Are you going to eat that?”
“Yes, when the cereal is soggy enough. I hate crunchy cereal.”
“Oh. So I could have put milk on while you were in the shower?”
I nod.
“Good to know.”
“How do you prefer your cereal?” I ask.
“With a little bit of crunch.”
“Noted.”
Not that he’s likely to stay over at mine ever. The joys of living with my parents. Knowing Dad, he’d order us to leave the bedroom door open so we couldn’t get up to any hanky-panky. As a joke, obviously, but it would be mortifying nonetheless. As amazing as my parents are for letting me stay with them while I do my MSc, I’m looking forward to being able to afford my own place. I need to graduate first and get a job, and neither of those things will happen if I don’t figure out my research project.
