Anna:OMG!
Me:I’m going to have to miss the market this morning. Sorry, Gem. I’ll grab litter on my way home. Thanks for letting me know.
Gemma:You’re lucky you have a good excuse. Good idea, it was gross and I gagged. But worry not, I ordered you a new bag to be delivered.
Me:Ugh, you’re amazing. I owe you. Thank you!
Anna:*le sigh* No one cares about the cat turd. What you owe us is some details!
Me:Yes, I went to James’s house. Yes, we had sex. I’ll tell you about it later.
Gemma:Come to mine tonight for margs and we can discuss.
Me:See you then. X
Anna:See you then.
The sound of a key jingling the lock startles me, and I quickly drop my phone onto the coffee table just as James swings the door open. One hand balances a tray with two takeaway coffee cups, while the other clutches a brown paper bag. My core throbs as I watch him. He looks like he belongs in a museum. Seriously, who looks that good in the morning?
He’s wearing a lightweight long-sleeved top that clings to his broad shoulders, loose joggers, and a pair of trainers. His sandy locks are tucked behind one ear, while the other side hangs loose, a stray strand falling over one eye as he juggles his keys and the takeaway. He glances at me with heat in his eyes. I drop my gaze to the floor, suddenly aware of how exposed I feel after last night.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says in a smooth rumble.
Sweetheart. I like it.
“Hi,” I say, hiding my smile. He walks towards me, and I stand frozen, unsure of what to do.
Do I kiss him?
Tingles bubble inside me.
Fuck, why am I so nervous? This man has seen and tasted every inch of me—I was literally rubbing my vagina in his face last night.
Perhaps it’s because I know just how good he looksunderneathhis clothes.
He closes the distance between us and leans in, planting a firm kiss on my lips, and his scent—a mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him—envelops me.
“I didn’t want to wake you. I’m sorry you woke up to an empty flat,” he says as he moves to the kitchen. I follow closely behind. “Did you sleep well?” he asks, setting the cups and bag on the counter.
“It’s fine,” I tell him. “And I did, thank you. I haven’t slept that well in a long time.”
I pull out a bar-stool and take a seat. James turns, giving me a soft smile that makes my pulse accelerate.
“Me too,” he says gently. “I could get used to falling asleep with you in my arms.”
“I certainly wouldn’t protest,” I tell him.
I turn to liquid at his smile. He swivels back to the counter, opening the paper bag and pulling out two freshly baked pastries.
His phone chimes, and my stomach twists as my eyes dart to his pocket. He pulls it out, swiping the screen to dismiss the notification before slipping it back. The quickness of his movements unsettles me, like how Lucas’s did before I found?—
I stop myself before I follow that train of thought, shifting in my seat.
He isn’t Lucas.
Instead, I lean over to peek at the treat. The warm, buttery scent wafts through the room. I catch sight of the flaky, golden pastry dusted with icing sugar and speckled with almonds, and my mouth waters.
“That smells divine,” I note, and my stomach grumbles loudly.
