I shake my head, pressing my lips together. “You loved it.”
“Idid,” he agrees. “I hope you enjoyed it too.”
“Are you kidding?” I ask.
He shrugs.
“It was incredible,” I say. “You were insane.”
He laughs.
“I’m serious. That thing you did with your tongue? You need to put that on your resume under ‘special skills.’”
Colin puts his hand on his forehead, shaking his head. “You hungry?”
I grin. “Always.”
“Would you like me to bring you breakfast in bed?”
“Nah. Only because I’m a sloppopotamus. It’ll end up everywhere.”
“Got it. Well then, come on out when you’re ready. I’ll go set the table.” He turns to leave, gifting me with the view of his ass muscles taking turns flexing through the thin fabric of his boxers as he walks out of the room.
I use the bathroom quickly, brush my teeth, and splash some water on my makeup-free face. I look in the mirror, trying to see myself through Colin’s adoring eyes. I don’t know how he did it, but he made me feel like I was the only woman in the entire world worth looking at. Interestingly enough, this morning, I don’t feel the need to criticize every wrinkle or strand of hair out of place.
I hear that’s calledafterglow.
I slip on a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and head over to the table. It’s set for two, replete with glasses of orange juice and a mason jar in the middle filled with spring daisies. I take a seat and Colin sets a dish down in front of me. It’s picture-perfect eggs benedict, with orange slices adorning the edge of the plate for decoration.
“Wow. This looks amazing,” I say. “Thank you.”
He sits down opposite me, setting his own plate on the table. “You’re welcome. I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”
“That’s what she said.”The Officequote makes me snicker.
Colin laughs. He takes a bite and nods appreciatively. “I had a great time with you last night.”
“Me too,” I say, tasting the hollandaise sauce on my fork. “This is yummy. Did you make it from scratch?”
He nods.
“And where’d you get all the food from?”
“So, there’s this thing they have in America. It’s called agrocery store.”
“Okay, jackass.” I laugh. “You really went out this morning?”
“I woke up early.” He shrugs. “Plus, I didn’t want to hype up my culinary skills and then not come through in the clutch.”
“I get it. Well, mission accomplished, my friend. You definitely proved yourself.”
“Does that mean I can sleep over again?” he asks.
“Indeed, you may. Although, I feel like maybe next time we do this, it should be at your house. I make the world’s best chocolate chip pancakes. From. Scratch.”
Colin laughs. “A regular Julia Child, ladies and gentlemen.”
“They’re no joke. I’ve been perfecting the recipe since I was about eight years old. I even have a secret ingredient.”
