Page 87 of Go Back to December

I glance down at the plate that is so much more than breakfast. My willpower lasts ten full seconds before I dive into the food. The potatoes are perfectly cooked, the seasoning salty and flavorful. A small moan of pleasure escapes me.

Baz’s breath hitches. His gaze aims straight at my mouth.

Our phones buzz in quick succession. From the spare bedroom, Luiza’s pings.

Baz’s eyes dart between the phones and the juice blender’s sharp blades.

I put a protective hand over mine. “You did promise you’d call home this morning.”

“It can wait,” he says around a mouthful of hash. “We should talk first.”

My appetite withers, but I force myself to eat so my mouth will be too preoccupied to do anything else.

He arches a brow. “You’re crashing out.”

I try on an oh, please denial face, which gets me nothing but Baz’s clenched jaw.

His phone vibrates across the counter.

“You should get that,” I insist.

“We’re having a conversation.”

The vibrating stops, and Baz smirks with satisfaction. “Back to your crash out.”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Mom-dodger.”

He fights off a smile before his expression turns serious. “Why are you upset?”

I groan.

“Melody,” he threatens in his Bad Bastard voice.

“Now you’re pissing me off.”

A grin perches on his mouth, and I want to wipe it off. With my lips.

He stalks around the kitchen counter with one crutch and stops in front of my stool. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

The phones continue pinging. Luiza sticks her head out and roars, “Baz! You promised you’d call Mamá!”

“I will!”

His attention locks back on me.

“Call your mother.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing, ” I swallow. “Call your mom. We’ve got plenty of time to talk after.”

Baz finally picks up the phone, gaze parked on me as he answers it.

Slowly, he shuffles toward the kitchen, shoveling in mouthfuls of breakfast over Yeses and Noes and Later today and No, she’s not and I’ll take care of it. He’s going for the Guinness World Record in heavy sighing by the time he hangs up.