If I was dead, this was averyspecific version of purgatory. All it needed now was for him to say something mildly goading just to irritate me.
“Before you ask, yes, you can absolutely pledge your undying love to me for saving you from performing a live reading ofBred by the Moonlightlast night.”
Annnnd, there it was. Fuck me, thiswashell, wasn’t it?
I wanted to snap back at him with one of a hundred retorts like I usually did, but all I could manage was lifting a certain finger in his direction.
He chuckled lowly, his bright blue eyes dancing as he stared down at me. “There’s that biting spirit I missed so much last night.”
I didn’t know what the hell that meant. Wasn’t sure I even wanted to. Because if there was some realm of reality where Ididn’tbite Lincoln’s head off every chance I got, well… I didn’t want to hear anything about it.
He gave me a quick once-over, that smile slipping just the slightest, before he met my gaze again. “I made breakfast.”
I side-eyed him. “What about coffee?”
“That too.” With a grin deep enough for his dimples to say hello, he walked backward toward the kitchenette. “C’mon, hellcat. I can’twaitto talk about last night.”
Groaning, I forced myself upright and grabbed the bottle of water from the nightstand. After downing a couple ibuprofen, I shuffled toward him like a zombie.WishingI felt dead inside.
Lincoln stood in front of the stove, wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung sweatpants and a smirk. His thick, dark hair was a tousled mess. His abs, that perfectly stubbled jawline, and those ridiculous dimples were not.
All the more reasons to hate him. I’d been stockpiling them like gold for years.
“Sleep well, sunshine?” he asked brightly, shooting me a grin.
“Why are you like this?” I mumbled, falling into a chair at the small, round table and dropping my head onto my folded arms.
“Perfectly pleasant? Dunno. I’ve heard it just comes naturally to the most gifted among us.” He set down a coffee cup on the table, nudging my elbow with it, before turning back to the stove.
I lifted my head and stared at the mug suspiciously, because one could never be too careful while ingesting things given by a nemesis. Itlookedfine. Actually, it looked more than fine… It looked like the perfect shade of caramel and exactly how I usually took my coffee.
But poison was colorless, and looks could be deceiving.
“If I wanted to kill you this morning, I could’ve already done it. And it would’ve been more creative than poison,” he said, eyes locked on mine as he drank from my coffee cup like a smug little asshole.
“That’s not what I was thinking.”
“Liar.”
I grabbed the mug from him, not even dignifying him with a response. Instead, I brought it to my lips and sipped hesitantly, face already scrunched in a grimace as I readied myself for shittily prepared coffee.
But as soon as the perfectly made elixir hit my tongue, the expression cleared. I couldn’t stop the contented sigh that left my lips as I took another sip, larger this time.
When I felt halfway human, I slid my gaze to Lincoln in all his insufferable, shirtless glory. “Should I file a restraining order with Sheriff McKenzie since you’ve clearly been stalking me?”
“If I were stalking you, hellcat, I’d have found you before you showed up at the bar at ten thirty on a Wednesday night.” He slid me a glance. “Already smashed.”
Embarrassment washed over me, heat blooming in my cheeks as snippets of last night filtered in.
But that was fine. Totally, completelyfine.
Especially when I was just going to go ahead and ignore that and pretend it had never happened.
“What other explanation is there for you knowingexactlyhow I take my coffee?” I asked, skating right over his statement.
He raised a brow in my direction. “Because you’re a creature of habit, and you’ve taken your coffee like this since you were fourteen and sneaking it from my house before school.”
Without allowing me to process that little history lesson, he dished up scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast onto two plates.
