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He cut me off by pressing another kiss to my lips. This time, it was deeper. Slower. The kind that didn’t feel wrong. And maybe that was the biggest problem.
He leaned his forehead against mine. “Last night wasn’t a mistake, Talia.”
“I didn’t say it was. But…you don’t feel guilty?”
“I feel a lot of things, but I’m focusing on the one that’s important right now. And that’s doing what’s right in my heart, even if it seems wrong for a million other reasons.”
I stared at him.
He stared back, his determination not wavering. “Now, what time do you need to leave for work?”
“Not for another hour and a half. Why?”
“Because I’d like to make you breakfast.” He shrugged. “So would you like eggs à la Rafe, or would you rather we spend the next hour emotionally waterboarding each other before we’re even caffeinated?”
A smile slipped out before I could stop it. Rafe’s grin returned. It was bright and boyish and unfairly irresistible.
“There she is.” He kissed the tip of my nose.
“What exactly are eggs à la Rafe?” I asked.
He reached above me, opened a cabinet, and pulled down a mug. Calder’s mug. The same one I’d just put back. My throat tightened.
“They’re the best thing you’re about to eat.” He winked. “Now go sit. And try to pretend you’re not one breath away from a full-blown meltdown.”
“How are you not feeling that way?”
He took my hand and brought it to his lips for a sweet kiss. Then he lowered it and pressed it over my heart.
“Focus on what you feel in here.” He lifted our joined hands to my forehead and tapped lightly. “Not in here.”
I took a deep breath and blew it out on a nod.
Rafe’s eyes softened. He looked at me like he saw every thorn I had, yet still wasn’t afraid of getting cut. Then he turned me by the shoulders, gave my ass a swat, and pointed to the table.
“Go. Sit. Let me work my magic.”
I watched as he moved around my kitchen—Calder’s kitchen—barefoot and shirtless, pulling open drawers, taking out a frying pan, humming a song that was vaguely familiar though I couldn’t quite place it, like this was an ordinary Wednesday morning.
He cracked eggs into a bowl and smiled at me like I was worth looking at. Eventually it made me start to believe maybe this could be an ordinary morning.
His lighthearted mood was contagious. He turned on music from his phone, shook his ass while he fried bacon, and at one point, walked over and took me in his arms for a quick slow dance.
I felt…wooed.
I felt like I was floating.
I felt loved.
Rafe picked up an egg, tossed it over his shoulder without looking, and somehow caught it in the bowl with a perfect crack. He grinned. “Hold all applause until the end, please.”
I laughed. Not a polite one. Not a nervous one. A real one. The kind that snuck out before I could remember I wasn’t supposed to feel so happy.
He was ridiculous. Playful. Completely unbothered by the fact that both our worlds had tilted off their axes. And I couldn’t help but make comparisons. Calder would’ve been measuring protein powder right now. Strapping on his Apple Watch. Lacing up his two-hundred-dollar sneakers for a run that was exactly forty minutes, not thirty-nine or forty-one. He would’ve already had a plan for what was going to come next. He was always thinking three steps ahead.
Whereas Rafe was half naked in my kitchen, using a wooden spoon as a microphone as he sang the wrong words to some song. And God help me, I reveled in it.
In the music.
