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“That’s where I’d beg to differ. I do need to be nervous because it keeps me on my toes.”
"Really?" Razor chuckles, this time laughing at me and not with me. “I’d say it stresses you out too damn much.”
I do enjoy spending time with him, but fuck he’s annoying sometimes.
When Razor finishes scrubbing the pan, he grabs a fresh one and sets it on the stove.
Flicking the heat on, he looks back at me. “Will you eat bacon?”
"Who doesn’t?” I answer.
Razor shakes his head as he opens the fridge door.
Scanning it, he pulls out a pack of bacon and gets it ready.
I sit here, watching him throw the bacon on the pan.
The aroma starts to fill the room, and I don’t think I’ve ever realized how sexy it is to see a man cook.
“You’re gonna eat this, Oakleigh.” Razor points out.
"Fine," I grumble, playfully rolling my eyes. "I'll eat your damn bacon."
"Now, that’s music to my ears," Razor smirks.
Silence passes between us while he finishes cooking the bacon.
When it’s finally ready, he transfers the crispy strips onto a plate, and slides it across the island toward me.
Our fingers touch for a brief moment, sending another shock wave of something through me.
I don’t know what the hell it is, but I know something’s brewing between us, that we have some sort of connection.
"Thanks," I murmur, not meeting his gaze.
I pick up a piece of bacon and take a bite.
Savoring its salty flavor, I moan. Fuck, maybe I did need some protein.
The sound of liquid being poured pulls my attention, and I spot Razor pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Looks like you’re enjoying it.”
I nod, licking my lips. “Mhm, it’s good.”
"Good, I’m glad you like it," Razor replies softly, his eyes locked on mine.
I notice he isn’t eating any, so I furrow my brows. “Why aren’t you eating?”
He shakes his head, “Not hungry yet. I wanted to make sure you ate a balanced meal.”
The intensity of his gaze sends shivers down my spine. He just has to watch over me in a multitude of ways, which only proves my point that we have some sort of connection between us.
As I continue eating breakfast, Razor speaks up. “It seems like you’re deep in thought this morning. What’s on your mind?”
I take another sip of my coffee, “Mexico. I know it’s a good idea, I just wonder what’s going to happen when I leave.”
Razor furrows his brows, “What do you mean?”
I swallow hard, “I’m not telling my father I’m going, and you’d better not either. I need to see if getting away will help, and I don’t want him talking me out of it before we leave.”
