I pull her down, guiding her to sit on my lap, careful not to spill the coffee. She rests her head on my shoulder. Something warm tugs in my chest as I rub her back, enjoying the small, content sound that escapes her.
“No, you’re my girl. I’ll protect you from anything.”
“It’s morning now,” she murmurs after a beat.
“Yeah?” My fingers sneak beneath the hem of the shirt she slept in, seeking skin.
Before I capture her lips for a kiss, we’re interrupted by Reagan’s arrival. She peers between us with an amused hum, eyeing my hockey stick with a raised brow.
“What’s going on here?”
Maya catches my eye to give me a pleading look. I think Reagan should know about what happened last night, but for now I’ll keep it quiet if that’s what she wants.
“Just having coffee.” I pick up the mug, smirking as I take a sip.
“Uh huh,” she says doubtfully. “Well, watch out. I’ve got class soon and I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
“Here.” I help Maya up, then take Reagan’s bag and follow the girls inside. “I’m making breakfast. What do you have?”
“Sorry, you’re going to cook for us?” Reagan leans against the island with a broad grin. “That changes everything. You can stay forever.”
I smirk while Maya rummages through the cabinets, pushing up the sleeves of my warm up jacket. She falters, attention lingering on my forearms. I flex my hands while I wash them, chuckling when her lids grow heavy as the corded muscles in my arms tense.
“We haven’t gone grocery shopping yet since we were both gone for break,” Reagan says.
“Our options are cereal, instant oatmeal, and I think we have some eggs,” Maya lists off.
“I make damn good omelets. Do you want cheese?”
“When don’t I want cheese?” She sets out the egg carton. “You’re lucky I get free eggs from Marnie.”
“No cheese on mine.” Reagan starts an electric kettle and gets out a comically large mug.
Maya sets me up with a bowl and a pan. We move around each other in the tiny kitchen.
While Reagan isn’t looking, I sneak over to Maya to kiss her neck. She smothers a gasp, catching my hands when I hold her waist. My tongue swipes across her skin.
We break apart before her roommate catches us, and I enjoy the shy way she ducks her head while peeling oranges to go with breakfast.
“This kitchen isn’t big enough for two people,” she says.
I take her hips from behind to shift her to the side, murmuring in her ear. “You could have breakfast at my place instead. The kitchen is way bigger.”
My old no sleepovers rule flies out the window when it comes to the idea of Maya in my bed.
It hits me how much I’d want that. Waking up with her soft warm body tangled with mine. Taking care of her.
“Go sit over there, I said I’m cooking for you.” I give her hips a squeeze, reluctant to let go.
She retreats to the other side of the small island, ears pink. Reagan nudges her, wriggling her brows while sipping her tea. The pan crackles on the stove when I pour the first omelet on it.
Keeping the smug grin off my face is impossible when my girl keeps sneaking those cute little glances at me while I cook for her and her friend.
“This is nice, you serving me for a change,” Reagan jokes.
I laugh. “You work hard to keep all of Heston Lake happily watered when you bartend.”
She turns to Maya. “How was your break?”
