“Every morning?” I grinned, delirious, before reality pierced the daydream of making breakfast with Angel in a brightly-lit kitchen, leaving lipstick imprints on his cheeks. “But you’ll be too busy. We’ll be lucky if we can share a coffee.”
“What about the next few weeks, then, while I’m house sitting? I’ll show you what I can really do in the kitchen,” he said, his gaze darting between my eyes as he slid his hands across my throbbing pulse to clasp the back of my neck. “Stay with me.”
The heating kicked on, fluttering the curtains so sunlight made the sugar sparkle across his lovely face.
This was not the picture-perfect fairytale I’d imagined as a girl. It was so much better. It was messy, and it was real, and it was right within my reach.
Chapter nineteen
Jump
Igrabbed the front of Angel’s shirt and shook him with glee, answering, “I’d love to stay with you.”
He laughed and pulled me into a kiss so we could rock together, wrapped up in excitement for the days to come.
I’d never been big on sleepovers as a kid. Back then, I shared a room with Kat, the coolest person I knew at the time, and enjoyed sleeping in my own comfy bed. It was hard towantto spend a night away from that.
As an adult, the idea of spending a whole week with Angel lit my imagination on fire.
I patted his chest. “We can do face masks or play board games. What kind of movies do you like? What about snacks?”
“First, let’s have breakfast.” He grinned, guiding me toward the pancakes.
“Are we doing this? I think we’re doing this,” I said. “I just have to figure out the semantics. I have a shift tomorrow, and Kat was going to drive me, so maybe—”
“I can take you.” He fork-fed me a huge slice of the heart pancakes, the strawberries and cream serving as a delicious, gooey middle.
I licked the sweet tang and touched my lips. Perfect. That was one shift handled. But what about the days Mom and Dad were supposed to drop me off? I wasn’t sure when I was going to see, let alone talk to them again.
Angel furrowed his brow. “Everything okay?”
I straightened my spine and looked away. “Oh, yes. Everything’s delicious. I just got distracted thinking about this morning.”
“This morning?”
“The non-cuddly part of it.” I forced out a broken laugh. It seemed so far away, now. So unimportant. “I’m not sure if I should call my parents.”
“About what? You’re a grown woman. They already think you’ll be here, right?” He gestured to Kat’s apartment.
“I know. But they’re also a big part of my…transportation network.” They still had a huge place in my heart, too, no matter how much it grew for my boyfriend. “I’m sure they’d be concerned if I suddenly asked to be picked up from another address.”
He lifted his shoulder. “You could make other arrangements. Ride shares, friends, or meet in a public place if my mom’s house is too awkward. We could even call in sick and spend all day in bed.”
I stiffened. “During Valentine’s? But they need us.”
He snorted and scooped another forkful of jam-coated heart. “Cake Warehouse would manage. But if you’ve pledged your honor to The Closette, so be it. I could always use the extra tips.” He focused on the pancakes, his enthusiasm notably dimmed.
Was he upset I wouldn’t ditch to go on dates with him? Or was he sick of dealing with my family drama? Or, worst of all, was he disappointed about our potential lack of sex?
“I-I’m sure we’ll figure it out. We can share our calendars for shifts,” I said, my face hot.
“I also have classes.” He cleared his throat and pushed the pancakes around the plate.
“Right.” Of course he'd have school and rotations.
“I have one tonight,” he admitted. “But I can probably watch the recorded seminar with slides the day after.”
I patted his shoulder. “No, go to the class. You might have questions, and it’d be better to ask them in person rather than hope the professor will check their email within the next few days.” Or weeks, knowing them.
