While I cook, I go over what the rest of the day is going to look like in my head, then call my assistant to make sure we’re still good for what I have planned to help Lizzy get ready for the Crane Gallery Gala tonight.
Just as I’m flipping the last pancake, a beautiful, raspy voice comes from behind me.
“Smells amazing.”
I turn to find Lizzy leaning against the doorframe, wearing nothing but my T-shirt. I must’ve left it on the floor when I took it off in the middle of the night. It barely skims the tops of her thighs. And the sight of her wearing my clothes? Dick hardening at its finest.
“Morning,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady despite the way my heart is knocking. “Sleep okay?”
She nods, bare feet padding across the floor. Her long, black hair is down and tousled, eyes still a little glazed from sleep. It is, hands down, one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. “Better than I have in a while, actually.”
Her admission sends a warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with the heat coming from the stove. “Coffee’s ready,” I manage to say, gesturing to the machine. “Mugs are in the cabinet to your right.”
When she reaches up to grab a mug from the cabinet above the coffeemaker, the movement causes the shirt to ride up, giving me a glimpse of the curve of her ass, and I almost drop the spatula.
Taking a long sip, she closes her eyes with a satisfied hum that does nothing to help the situation going on in my pants right now.
“God, even your coffee tastes expensive.”
I laugh, sliding the last pancake onto the stack. “It’s imported from Colombia. A director I worked with got me hooked on it.”
“Figures,” she says with a playful roll of her eyes.
As I set our plates on the kitchen island, Lizzy slides onto one of the cushioned barstools, tucking one leg underneath her. The domesticity—her in my kitchen, wearing my shirt, sleep-rumpled and gorgeous—makes my heart feel like it might burst right out of my chest.
I want every morning to be like this.
“These look incredible,” she says, cutting into her pancakes. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I reply, sitting down beside her. When I press my thigh against hers, she doesn’t move away. “I took a cooking class after a particularly bad breakup. Figured I needed a hobby that didn’t involve alcohol or meaningless sex.”
Her eyebrows shoot up as she takes a bite. “Mmm. Okay, these are actually amazing. Who was it?”
I scoff around a bite of bacon. “No one important. Just someone who thought dating me would be the same as dating the characters I play.”
Lizzy nods thoughtfully, chewing. “That must happen a lot, huh?”
“Yes,” I admit, watching as she savors another bite. “Being here with you, though? Someone who knew me before?” Her tongue swipes a bead of syrup off her lip, and my next words almost come out as a stutter, and I have to clear my throat before I can continue. “Um... Someone who doesn’t give a shit about the fame? It’s nice,” I shrug.
Green eyes pierce right through me. “Is that why you came back to Lakeside? To find a sense of home again?”
Considering her question, I take another sip of my coffee. “In a way. The movie was a good excuse, but I think I needed to go home. Remind myself who I really am outside of all...” I gesture vaguely around us. “...this.”
She nods as she takes a bite of her bacon, chewing thoughtfully. The next words out of her exquisite mouth are words I didn’t know I’d been hoping to hear. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad you did.”
The grin I give her feels shy. “Me too.”
Her eyes bounce between mine for a beat before she turns back to her breakfast. “So, what are we doing today?”
Still a little disoriented by her previous words, I have to rack my brain for a few seconds before it comes to me. “My friend Ava—a stylist I work with a lot—is coming over this afternoon. She’s bringing some clothing options for tonight along with Leeza, who’s going to do your makeup and hair.”
I take another sip of my coffee, watching her reaction carefully. “But we’ve got plenty of time before they get here. Thought maybe we could hang out by the pool? It’s supposed to be hot today.”
“A stylist?” Lizzy sounds skeptical. A lock of hair falls, blocking her face as she pushes a blueberry around her plate with her fork. “I told you I brought a dress.”
“I know, and I’m sure it’s nice. This is just... part of the Hollywood experience, okay? Humor me?” I reach over and gently push her hair away from her face, allowing my fingers to linger on her skin before shifting away. “Besides, Ava will kill me if she doesn’t get to meet you.”
Lizzy’s expression softens as she reaches for her coffee mug. “Fine. But if she tries to put me in something super fancy or uncomfortable, I’m gonna wear my own dress.”
