Page 113
“And donut holes.”
“And?”
“Bagels.”
“Not a pastry.”
“Then…that’s where it um…stops?”
The quirked eyebrow I’m thrown shoots me upward.
“Gam Gam wasn’t big into breakfast pastries! Or…breakfast really. She had a whole breakfast being the most important meal of the day conspiracy theory that dated back to dark times and even darker cereal origins.” Adjusting my glasses needlessly occurs. “Although, pie for breakfast was an acceptable exception. She liked pie. I can’t bake pie, but I can tell you the ingredients to make the greatest pie you’ll ever have. Just don’t ask me to make it. I never got practice at it. Or to participate in the actual making part. And honestly, I’m likely to burn a thumb or hand on the oven or-”
“Emmerz,” H warmly cuts off as he matches my sitting position, “we’re good.”
I press my lips together on instinct.
“You don’t have to make me pie.” He bends his legs to let his arms dangle over them. “Or jump ‘cause I said it. Or any other weird shit you think or assume you gotta do now that you’re my Old Lady.”
Relief I didn’t know I needed plops dramatically onto my shoulders.
“And since you don’t know shit about pastries, I’ll bring over an assortment and give you a lesson on cream filling.”
There’s no stopping my nose from mirthfully scrunching. “That was a salacious innuendo.”
“It was.”
“And you are quite proud of yourself for making it.”
“Yeah.” Humor hobbles into his expression. “This is me showing off my creative writing skills in real time.”
Laughter precedes me gagging.
And giggling.
And gagging again on a good-natured shoulder bump that leads to being unexpectedly wrapped in his arms.
Kissed.
Tickled.
Kissed more on the neck and shoulders and the top of my chest.
However, in spite of where my lady parts are proclaiming things should go next, they don’t.
We decide against a quickie and get dressed, knowing Hogan has to get to work on time.
Sure, he may be the boss, but even bosses should be a good example.
You know.
The thing I’m not being by banging one of my students.
Ex-student now.
I hate that he’s giving up class, though I love that I’m more important.
Honestly?
