The hairs on my arms begin to stand as I sense a presence in the room behind us. I whip my head over my shoulder and find Caleb’s bright green eyes staring back at me.
“Morning, Caleb,” Zara says chirpily.
“Hey,” he says gruffly with his sleepy voice.
“I’ll go see if Felix is done with the rotation check and give him his,” Zara says before dismissing herself.
Caleb glances around the kitchen at the mess we’ve made. “What’s all this?”
“I made you breakfast.” I smile innocently before intertwining my fingers together.
He quirks a brow at me. “You made me breakfast?”
“Well…” I clear my throat. “Zara helped.”
His eyes flick to the plate closest to him that’s stacked with waffles, bananas, and too much honey.
“Waffles are my favourite.”
I bite my lip to stop my grin from peeking through like a goofy idiot. “So I’ve heard.”
“Come here,” he states slowly.
The blood inside my veins begins to slow as I drink in his deep tone.
“What?”
“I said, ‘Come here.’”
My bare feet glide across the kitchen floor until I’m at arm's length from him. He stalks my every move with his greedy eyes that make me lose my breath. His hand reaches out before he pulls me into him, my face falling into his warm chest.
“Thank you for making me breakfast,” he murmurs against my pulse, and I quiver. “But I don’t appreciate waking up to an empty bed. Don’t do that again. I didn’t know where you were.”
I shudder at the subtle fear in his words. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to do something nice for you.”
“Wake me up next time,” he says before pulling back and stroking his fingers through my curls.
It’s an action that will always make butterflies erupt in my stomach as he stares at me with admiration in his eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were so obsessed with me,” I say playfully.
Caleb’s green eyes zero on mine. “Only you. Everyone else can fuck off.”
A laugh escapes my lips, and he flashes off his perfectly white teeth in return. “Your waffles are going to be cold,” I say as I pull myself away from his embrace.
He shrugs and walks towards the plate. “I like them cold.”
“Caveman.” I laugh.
“One hundred percent.”
We sit around the kitchen counter and dig into our breakfast. I watch him not so subtly as he takes his first bite. His eyes dart to mine, and I hold my breath with sudden fear that I used salt instead of sugar.
“What?” I exhale shakily.
“They’re so fucking good, pups,” he groans.
I take a breath of relief. “Oh, thank the Goddess. I thought you were going to say you hated them.”
