“Okay,” she says before walking across the living room and leaning down to kiss Skye on the forehead.
I fight the smile building on my face. She might not want us to be together, but I know the attraction is still there. We’re two magnets that are struggling to stay apart, and it’s definitely not an easy fight.
When she returns, she’s freshly showered with her long, damp hair resting over her shoulders. She avoids my gaze as she hurries to the bedroom before throwing on some clothes. I plate up and head to the table as she meets me.
“French toast?” she says with delicacy.
I meet her eyes. “Yeah. You still love it, right?”
Maya flicks her eyes between mine. “Always.”
“Good,” I say as I gesture to the plate. “Eat.”
She sits down, and I perch beside her as we dig into our breakfast. My eyes follow her fork as she raises it and places the toast inside her mouth, and a groan erupts into the room.
A small laugh bursts from my chest. “That good, huh?”
“Mm.” She hums as she covers her mouth with her hand. “This is the best French toast I’ve ever had. How do you do it?”
I shrug. “It’s a secret, and practically the only thing I can cook well.”
“That’s a lie. You’ve cooked me a few meals that were delicious.” She watches me with those mesmerising eyes. “Since when did you get into cooking?”
My tongue pokes into the corner of my mouth. “When I realised that binge eating shit food was contributing to unhealthy choices with drinking and going out. It’s what I associate hangovers with. When I went to rehab, they tried to get us to try out new things, and I decided I actually enjoyed cooking.”
Maya’s face softens. “It’s good that it benefitted you.”
I nod in agreement. “They wanted to give us something to work with when we left.”
“I wanna know more about your rehabilitation,” she states, which surprises me.
“Really?”
Maya’s head tilts. “Of course. I suppose I didn’t really ask loads of questions at the start because I didn’t want to trigger you. I didn’t know if you were ready to talk about it, but I know you’ve been making really good progress. If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.”
I chew, swallow, and clear my throat. “Maybe another time,” I say. “I just wanna enjoy breakfast with you.”
“Okay,” she says with a smile, and I lock onto the sight. “It’s not shameful.”
“I’m not ashamed of it.” It might have been at the start, but not now. Not knowing it saved my life. I’ve finally learnt not to let the thoughts of others affect me, even if it’s still in practice.“This just feels normal,” I admit. “And I wanna feel normal for a moment longer.”
Maya purses her lips, not taking her eyes off me. “Okay, we can do that.”
“Thank you,” I say gratefully.
“You seriously not going to tell me the secret recipe?” Maya eyes me cautiously.
I snort. “Nope.”
“You’re so mean.”
“How?”
“Because I want to make it myself.”
“Then just let me make it for you,” I say simply.
Maya narrows her eyes. “Every time I want it?”
