Is there anything he doesn't know?
"Do you even like oatmeal?" I ask as I side-eye him.
"Not until recently. At least, I wasn't aware of it." He drinks some of his coffee, his black instead of matching mine.
I don't mind mine without anything in it, but it makes it a more enjoyable experience with a little added flare.
"Oh," Miller says between bites. "Here." He shoves a white box toward me, the Apple logo on the outside.
"What's this?" I ask him and eat another spoonful of the oatmeal.
"A phone." Miller scrapes what's left of his oatmeal into his mouth and gets up from his seat to rinse his bowl in the sink. "You broke yours, so I got you a new one."
"You did what?" I lift the lid off the box and pull out the pale pink phone, turning it over in my hand. "What model is this?"
Miller shrugs and reaches for his coffee. "The new one, I suppose."
I flip the box over and read the small print on the back. "Um, this isn't even out for another couple of months."
He lifts his shoulder again and goes to work cleaning up the little bit of a mess he created.
So, he's thoughtful, murderous, a bit of a stalker,andcooks and cleans.
"I can't accept this," I say and lower the phone back into the box.
Miller shuts off the faucet and reaches for the top of it, sliding the hose out and pointing the nozzle at me. "Cora, sweetie, you're going to take the phone and you're going to like it."
"And if I don't?"
"If you don't like it, I'll buy you a different one. If you don't take it, I will soak you and not feel an ounce of remorse."
I eye the way his fingers twitch toward the handle and come to terms with the fact that he is probably not bluffing. He never is.
"Fine," I huff. "But I'll do it later so I can upload all my stuff."
Miller returns to the dishes and says, "No need, it's already on there."
I roll my eyes at him. "Of course, it is."
Once I'm finished with breakfast, I attempt to help him clean up, but he insists that he has it under control. I've never felt so...taken care of, in my entire life, and if I'm being honest, I have no idea what to do with it. My hands are fidgety and I mindlessly tidy up the kitchen that sort of belongs to me.
All of this is strange and I can't seem to wrap my head around any of it.
"You ready?" Miller dries his hands and hangs the towel on the dishwasher handle.
"Shit." I pause after a few steps.
"What did you forget?"
"My purse..."
Miller continues toward the door, ignoring my declaration, stopping just at the table near it and turns around, my Alexander McQueen clutch he had bought me in his grasp. "You looking for this?"
My mouth drops open and I close the distance between us. "How did you?"
A sly grin forms on his handsome face. "I keep telling you, there isn't anything I can't get for you." He plants a kiss on my forehead and grabs a key from the bowl next to where my purse must have been sitting. "Speaking of which, we're going to take your car."
"My what?"
