So, with a blazing happiness in my chest, I climb out of bed and go about getting ready for the day. I wash quickly, style my hair in a messy updo with several strands of blue framing my face, and apply only mascara today, opting for comfortable clothes since I’ll be out of the studio with Caiden.
Dressed in a pair of tight, high-waisted gym shorts and a cropped jersey that is more for style than an actual team jersey, I look myself over in the mirror and nod. “That’ll do.”
I leave my room after that, only to be greeted by a delicious aroma that leads me straight to the kitchen. It’s there I find Ryan plating French toast, his abs now covered with the shirt I tore from his body last night.
Lips twitching, I head toward him and waste no time wrapping my arms around him, fully embracing the way our relationships are progressing and taking advantage of the perks of being with four men. I mean, I’m sure I’ve warned enough of them that I’m clingy by nature, and that surely would have spread among them. I don’t plan on changing, not after being told I’m liked for me just the way I am.
So I feel nothing but contentment and happiness when I lean against Ryan’s back, peering around him to watch as he piles a handful of strawberries onto the French toast, drizzling it with syrup and dusting it with powdered sugar before he holds his hands out toward it and sings, “Ta-daaa.”
Snickering, I shove my face into his shoulder blade, squeezing him once before pulling away and telling him honestly, “That looks so good.”
“It’s all yours, trouble. Eat it up quickly before Caid gets here. He’ll either steal it or glare at you for eating more carbs, so enjoy it while you can,” he hurries to tell me, right as the front door opens and an unimpressed Caiden walks into the kitchen with a raised eyebrow.
“I heard that,” he declares, and my eyes widen when he turns to face me and my breakfast. He eyes my plate for a little too long, and I already know it’s a sugar kind of day rather than a lecture day, so I do the only thing I can in this situation.
Picking up a fork, I act on instinct, pointing it at him threateningly. With a fierce glare that he finds more amusing than scary, I warn, “Don’t even think about it, Caiden Miller. These are mine, and if you touch, I’ll Photoshop a dick onto your forehead in every single photo I take of you today. Capiche?”
Ryan snorts as he turns away to make another plate of French toast, for Caiden no doubt, and the man I’m threatening rolls his eyes with a twitch of his lips before he shuffles closer and takes a seat on the stool beside mine.
Instead of going for my food, Caid leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips, pulling back with a blush and a cheeky smile as he says, “That’s the kind of sugar I need in the mornings.”
“That’s adorable,” I counter, even as a giddy rush fills me from head to toe, especially when Caid blushes before looking away with a cute smile.
Ryan eventually places a plate in front of Caid before he goes about tidying the kitchen, and Caid frowns at him as he asks, “Aren’t you eating with us?”
“I ate already,” Ryan says, and my fork clatters on the counter the moment the words reach my eardrums.
Eyes widening, I stare at my plate, biting my lip to stop the stupid smile from breaking free. It’s no use, and I have to look away when Caid asks, “Seriously? What did you have for breakfast?”
I can feel Ryan’s eyes on me, but I can’t look, knowing I’ll laugh. I won’t give him that satisfaction.
Thankfully, I don’t have to, because in the silence it takes Ryan to respond, Caiden already catches on. I hear him gasp, and my shoulders instantly start shaking with silent laughter, right before he blurts, “You filthy bastard. At the breakfast island, no less.”
“It’s an island, not a table,” Ryan dutifully points out, and that’s when I lose my fight against the laughter that spills out with an unladylike wheeze.
When I finally turn to face the two men in the room, I find one grinning at the sink, while the other is staring at me like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Caid shakes his head and stabs his toast, chomping into it without taking his eyes off me,and I slide my hand over my mouth before muttering, “Seems he had quite the fulfilling breakfast, if you ask me.”
Caiden’s eyes glitter with amusement even as he gasps in false outrage, shaking his head like he’s never been more appalled, before he declares, “Never in all my years have I been in the presence of such filth. For shame. For. Shame.”
“You’re an idiot,” Ryan snickers, putting everything away in its rightful place as soon as he’s done washing. When he’s finished and my plate is almost empty, he walks around the island and leans in for a kiss I give willingly. He cups my face delicately, as though he’s handling something precious, and I melt into him as he slowly drugs me with every press of his lips against mine. When he pulls back, he says, “I’ll see you at dinner.”
There’s a flirty undertone to his words, and I catch it instantly, laughing as he pulls away. Pointing my fork at him, I accuse, “Dirty devil. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”
“What can I say, trouble? I’m full of surprises,” he tosses over his shoulder, heading to the door where his shoes sit neatly. He shoves his feet into them before flashing me that charming grin, and he says, “I’ll see you later.”
“Have a good day,” I call, blowing him another kiss that he steals and stuffs into his pocket before disappearing out the door.
When I turn my focus back to Caiden, I find him staring at the door as though he’s witnessed something particularly troubling, and I ask, “Everything okay?”
“No. It’s not,” he answers seriously, slowly turning to face me with a worried expression. “I think aliens have taken over Ryan’s body. Did he just catch a kiss from you?”
Rolling my eyes when I realize he’s not being serious, I nod and offer the rest of my breakfast to him. He’s already finished his, though I have no idea when he ate it all, but heaccepts my offering as I tell him, “What can I say? I have that effect on a man.”
“I believe you, Blue,” he teases, finishing my breakfast before he stands and takes care of the dishes.
When he’s done, wiping his wet hands on a hand towel, he asks, “So, are you ready to bless your camera with my face today?”
“You bet your fine ass I am. Are you ready to strike some poses for me?” I counter.
