“We can try to break the code on the magic bacon too,” I whisper.
He keeps staring like he wasn’t the one who said just an hour or so ago that he’d take me on a hot-air balloon ride when we get back home. “There are a lot of parts of me you won’t like when we get to know each other better.”
“That’s a pretty large assumption. I thought I’d been pretty clear that perfection is bullshit and I don’t want to be Princess Plainy-Laney anymore.”
He flinches like it hurtshimto remember he’s called me that all his life. “You’re not worried about what Emma will say?”
“Emma adores you.”
“Or what your parents will say?”
“I can’t live for them. And if they expect me to…” Then I have a hard road ahead of me.
But it’ll be hard no matter what. I’ve known that for a year, and I’ve been sitting on my handsnot livingout of fear.
Screw the fear.
Fuckthe fear.
His brown eyes study me like he knows so much more about life than I can even begin to imagine. Like he knows what I’m facing with choosing me over my parents’ expectations. Like he can see my future playing out in ways I would never expect, and he could tell me all of his hard-earned wisdom, but he knows I need to face it for myself in the moment for it to truly change me from who I’ve been to who I want to be.
One corner of his mouth hitches up in a smile. “Good for you.”
And once again, I wonder who this man is. Because I don’t feel like I’m sitting next to the guy who gave me the orgasm of my life last night.
I feel like I’m sitting next to a life coach. Or a therapist. Or at least someone who understands so much more about the world than my sheltered ass can even begin to comprehend.
He shoves the pancakes in front of me, then snags the plate of loco moco, which is like a breakfast hamburger with eggs and all the trimmings on it.
And he eats.
And moans.
And eats.
And moans.
And feeds me until I’m stuffed.
And eats some more, until he finally collapses back in his chair and lets his eyes slide shut while he rests a hand on his belly.
I squeeze his thigh. “Happy?” I murmur.
“Gonna regret this so much later.”
“But are you happynow?”
One eye peeks open and aims at me. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I’m happy now.”
The sentiment lights my whole heart brighter than all of the stars in the universe combined.
But it’s short-lived.
Because my phone is suddenly exploding.
Based on the way his face twitches, his might be too.
“Wedding SOS, I’d bet,” I say quietly.
