“You’re giving me a lot of firsts lately, Leo.”
“I don’t plan to stop anytime soon.” Her face changes, almost unconsciously, and I hesitate. “What?”
“What exactly…” She licks her lips. “What is this now?” I roll us again until I’m on my back, her body lying on top of mine, chest to chest, and slowly, I stroke her back, soft and gentle.
“This is me and you finally doing what we were supposed to eight years ago.”
“By fucking?” she asks, her voice frail, trying to hide her nervousness with a joke. I don’t let her have that; instead shaking my head.
“By you becoming mine and me becoming yours.”
“So what are you, then? My boyfriend?”
“I don’t care what you call me, so long as when I try to take care of you, you don’t argue, and when you start to get under my skin, I get to throw you over my shoulder and take you to bed until you see my way. So long as you sleep in my shirt every night, and I give you all of the firsts you want.” As promised, she took my shirt off after the first round and wore it while I made us a quick dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, then took her back to bed and continued making up for lost time.
“I’m whatever you want to call me, honey, so long as, at the end of the day, you call me yours.”
My hand slips up that same shirt, skimming over soft skin and feeling her stomach hollow as she sucks in a breath.
Yeah, lots of benefits to Willa sleeping in my bed.
“But when you come, I want you to call me Leo,” I murmur, cupping her breast, a thumb brushing over her nipple.
“Leo,” she whispers, voice breathy and needy.
“Yeah, just like that,” I groan, pressing my hips into hers and running my tongue over her neck.
An hour later, Willa’s getting ready for the day and apparently responding to a dozen texts from girls. Apparently, yesterday Hallie noticed Willa’s car hadn’t come back last night and grew worried. That is, until she sent Jesse over to my place, and he reported that her car was still there. It seems that thenosy woman has put two and two together and is trying to get the full details from her. She explained it with a deep blush, but the smile on her lips told me that, while she was a bit embarrassed to be called out, she is enjoying this new form of friendship.
While she does that, I go into the kitchen to make us breakfast, starting with the coffee, then move to the pantry. There’s nothing in there, since I haven’t gone to the grocery store in a bit—too busy with Willa and getting work done in the small pockets of time I steal while I’m not working on the house. I’ve been doing a lot of takeout and cereal, but I used the last of the latter yesterday, and with last night’s activities, I didn’t make it to the store after Willa left, as I had planned.
With a sigh, I move to the fridge, hoping there’s something in there, but find it mostly empty, other than the milk and half-and-half that I bought last week on a whim, knowing Willa likes it in her coffee.
It seems I’ve been a goner longer than I was willing to admit.
But a light shines when I open the freezer, and I grab a familiar blue box with a smile before placing two pastries into the toaster. I’m plating our five-star luxury breakfast when she steps out in one of my tees, the hem tucked into the now-dry shorts she wore yesterday. Her hair is in a mess on top of her head, and there’s a nervous look on her face, but she’s never looked more beautiful to me.
“I borrowed your toothbrush,” she murmurs, breaking the silence and stepping further into the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“My mouth was between your legs last night. I think I’m okay with sharing a toothbrush.” A blush burns, but I keep going. “I’ll get you one for here tomorrow. When you come here tonight, bring some things to keep here for the days you don’t feel likegoing home after working on the house.” The nervousness or hesitation leaves her face instantly.
“Really?” I move then, stepping into her space and pulling her into mine before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
“Let me make this very, very clear, Willa. Last night changed everything for me. I plan on recreating it many, many times, from making you moan out my name to sleeping wrapped around you. So yeah, I want you to keep your things here.”
She smiles then, the full one I love most of all.
“Okay, good,” she whispers then. Two words, so simple, so insignificant, and yet they mean everything to me. After a moment, she glances over my shoulder to the counter where the plates still sit. “What’s that?” I grin, remembering my find, then step away and toward the counter to grab both plates. She follows me as I move to the kitchen table, where I set them down at two catty-corner seats.
“The greatest luxury ever to grace the frozen foods aisle,” I say, then return to the counter where our coffees are, hers made with far too much cream and sugar.
“Oh?” she asks with a laugh, accepting the cup I offer her as we both sit down.
”It’s a toaster strudel. Still never had one?”
There’s a moment where she’s still, then she looks down at the little rectangle on her plate, and she bites her lip before looking up at me, with awe on her face.
“You really remember that?”
