“Of course. Good night, my queen.”
Morgan
* * *
I wake up to hot breath on my face. Sadly it smells like dog food, so it’s not Rory’s.
God, how fucking hot would it have been if she had crawled into bed with me last night? I listened with half an ear for any signs of it happening, but it was dead quiet in my house.
Well, except for Princess’s light snoring. And now she’s breathing in my face and her tail is whacking into the wood of my nightstand.
“Go back to sleep,” I moan. I have blackout curtains in my room to help me sleep better, so I roll over and pull the comforter over my head.
But then I hear the clank of plates in the kitchen and sit bolt upright. Rory’s awake.
Princess’s tail whacks harder and she whines.
“Yeah okay, fine. I’m up.”
I throw a shirt on with my boxers and exit my bedroom. Rory’s at the stove, dressed in dark jeans and a tight black long-sleeve shirt. It smells like eggs and butter, and something’s steaming on the burner.
“Good morning,” I say.
Rory spins around. Her hair’s loose and a tangled mess around her face and she glares at me. One hand points at the coffee maker. “Help.”
I shuffle past her and let Princess out into the backyard. “It’s broken,” I say apologetically when I turn around. “I’ve got instant.”
She blanches, but pulls out a coffee mug and fills it with water before putting it in the microwave.
“How’d you sleep?” I ask.
“Fine.”
“You driving back home today?”
“Yeah.”
Princess is back at the door, so I let her in and feed her. When I turn around, there’s a plate of food at the kitchen table.
“Eat.” Rory points.
Being monosyllabic is impressive. I sit and eat. The microwave beeps, Rory mixes in the instant coffee and slurps some down.
She grimaces, but then gulps down more.
I make a note to buy better coffee. I don’t have it at home often. I’m more likely to grab a cup at Sweet Persuasions while on my morning walk with Princess.
Besides, I don’t need caffeine to get my day started. Unlike some people, apparently.
Rory finishes her mug while she makes a second plate of food and sits across from me when it’s done. On a normal day, she’s pretty intimidating, but first thing in the morning, Rory scares even me.
But she’s wearing my ring, and all of this—her even being here, let alone wearing my ring and cooking me breakfast—makes me warm and fuzzy inside.
We eat in silence, but I keep sneaking glances at Rory, and I catch her doing it a few times to me. I’m not sure what my hair looks like—I haven’t even glanced in the mirror yet—but whatever she sees, she must like, because her cheeks get gradually pinker and pinker.
When we’re done, I clean up the kitchen while she packs, and then I walk her out to her bike.
“You gonna see your grandma this morning?”
