“He was betting on his sister’s sex life?”
Noah shrugs, piling scrambled eggs onto his plate. “Reluctantly. We kind of forced him.”
I shake my head. “I can’t believe you guys.”
“We haven’t had much to do expect theorize on when you guys would give in. Or, specifically, when she would. I think anyone with half a brain cell can see how down bad you are for her.
“Unbelievable,” I grumble, but it doesn’t even sound like I’m annoyed because I’m too fucking happy.
Ebba loves me.
She fucking loves me.
I had all but convinced myself I would never hear those words from her mouth again, and then Vegas happened, and I … I hoped. Foolishly I had hoped I might hear them. I wasn’t going to push her on it, though. Even when there were numerous times, I had to bite my tongue not to say them to her. I didn’t want to tell her how I felt and have her feel pressured to say it back.
Noah’s hand smacks down on my shoulder, dragging my attention back to him. “I’m happy for you, dude. We all are.”
“Thanks.”
“Who would’ve thought that us two miserable saps would find happiness again.”
I chuckle and set the full plate on a tray, moving toward the coffee and juice station.
“We’re lucky, aren’t we?” I muse and grab a mug, filling it with coffee and a generous helping of cream and sugar.
“I don’t know if lucky is the word I would use.” He grabs a banana from the fruit bowl and adds it to his tray. “We’ve both been through some shit. Maybe the universe is finally rewarding us.”
It would be all too easy to get hung up on the years wasted without Ebba, but I wasn’t lying when I told her I believe we needed that time apart to grow.
I finish with the coffee and grab two glasses of fresh OJ and say my goodbyes to Noah.
Upstairs, I open the door to the suite and find Ebba at the table in the corner. I frown when I find her dressed, though she’s only tossed on one of my shirts and a tiny pair of shorts.
“Why do you look so sad? Were they out of coffee?” I set the tray down and she spots the mug. “No, not out of coffee, so what is it then?”
I tug on the white cotton shirt she wears. I can easily see her nipples through the fabric but it’s still not enough. “Off.”
She laughs, tugging it easily out of my hold. “Not a chance buddy. I’m not eating naked.”
I pout. “Please.”
“No.”
She settles into the chair, curling her legs beneath her. “God, I’m hungry.” She reaches for a piece of toast.
“I got a little bit of everything,” I explain, sitting across from her. “Eggs, fruit, toast, there’s some waffles too.”
“This is perfect.”
Clearing my throat, I say, “Are you okay?”
“Just a little tired.” She gives a small smile and grabs one of the glasses of orange juice.
“I meant mentally. I didn’t … you don’t regret it, do you?”
The thought has been plaguing me since we woke up, even though she seems in good spirits.
Her face falls. “What?”
