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“Morning,” he says, his voice raspy with sleep.
That sound? That’s what I’ve been keeping myself away from while avoiding staying in bed with him? I’m a total idiot.
His bulge presses into my ass, and he freezes, holding my hip.
“Sorry,” I whisper-giggle. “Morning wood.”
“Yeah. Just morning wood. Has nothing to do with sharing a bed with the most beautiful woman in the world.”
He has to go and ruin a perfect moment. Too far. Too much. He sounds sincere, which is the worst part. I should probably be grateful for the compliment, but Sterling can’t think about me like that, and I definitely shouldn’t be feeling each word to my core, tingles running up my spine.
I slip out of bed even as he tries to reach for me.
“Come on,” I say, trying to turn the vibe around. What we need is a distraction. And I definitely need to be far away from this bed, which will surely smell like him for far too long. “You’re making me breakfast.”
“I am?”
“Yup.”
“You’re the host. Shouldn’t you be cooking for me?”
Good point. But…
“I don’t really know how.” I lift my head higher. “And you do. I already have proof.”
Admittedly, I can make breakfast. It’s the easiest meal to make, after all. Toast. Eggs. Cereal. Whatever. But I like pushing his buttons.
“Fine.” He shuffles out of bed, covering his crotch with one hand. “I’m going to use the downstairs bathroom. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
“You got it.”
When he leaves, I stare at his ass in a perfectly platonic fashion.
I expect him to go home after breakfast, but he doesn’t. He stays. He stays the next night, too, telling me he wants to stick around until my family is back. The house really likes his presence—no more dreams, no more wailing. Just the two of us, having fun.
Or the three of us, if we count the cottage.
After work, we spend the night making dinner together, and he chooses the activity: board games. An annoyingly long game of Monopoly that he, of course, wins. Then, it’s time to do something I like.
“This is a terrible idea,” Sterling grumbles as I climb out of my bedroom window.
I’ve been admiring this roof for some time, but this is my first time stopping to really enjoy it. It’s sturdy, too easy for me to settle on. As long as the cottage is still in a good mood, I’m sure it’s safe. Probably.
“You’ll be fine,” I say, looking at him from over my shoulder. “Don’t you want me to connect to my magic again? There are plenty of stars out here just waiting for us.”
He sighs and follows after me, but there’s nothing graceful about how he moves. He’s like a cat who’s about to fall off the countertop. Adorable, really, his limbs shaking as he sits next to me.
“Not a fan of heights?” I ask, pressing my lips together.
“I’m fine with heights.”
“Uh-huh.” I rest my head on his shoulder, and he relaxes slightly. “Look up, Sterling.”
He’s said that to me so many times, and it’s my turn, whispering the words as he tilts his chin to look at the sky. There are so many stars out here. It reminds me of camping with my family, of the nights I spent whispering to the stars.
They may not talk to me anymore, but I want to keep trying.
“What secrets are you hiding?” I ask the sky, an old question I used for divination.
