Page 94 of Hard Rain

“You still like me.”

“That remains under investigation.”

“Hm.” Axel took a sip. “You making eggs?”

“I am.” Whip reached into the refrigerator.

“And bacon?” Axel lifted his mug.

“Lots of it.”

“You’re definitely keeping me.”

Of course he was keeping him.

“You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

Axel shrugged like that was the least important part of the equation.

“We already live together.”

The man had a point.

Breakfast was halfway finished before either of them remembered there was a world outside Whip’s kitchen.

Sunlight spilled through the window over the sink, catching the steam rising off two coffee mugs while Axel demolished an unreasonable number of eggs.

“You know,” Whip said, reaching for another piece of toast, “normal people usually slow down after the first plate.”

Axel looked up.

“Why?”

“So they can taste it.”

“I tasted it.”

Axel looked offended, and Whip smiled wider.

“You inhaled it.”

“It was efficient.”

Whip chuckled.

“Is that what that was?”

Axel only grinned and took another huge bite.

The familiar rhythm settled over them, easy enough that it almost felt like yesterday had happened weeks ago instead of less than twelve hours earlier.

Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised him.

The kisses had been new.

This wasn’t.

They’d shared motel rooms, stakeouts, late-night diners, and more bad coffee than either of them ought to admit. Somehow the only real difference this morning was that Axel had kissed him before breakfast instead of stealing his toast.