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I nod just to see his reaction. And it’s priceless.
“Well, damn girl,” Kris says, leaning forward to place a kiss on my forehead. “How many lovers do you have?”
“I don’t have any lovers,” I tease him, pulling the covers up to my shoulders when I notice that I’m still naked. “Just admirers.”
He’s silent for a moment as the gears turn in his mind. The look on his face makes me so overcome with guilt that I can’t hold out anymore. I really thought making him jealous would be satisfying. But it’s exactly the opposite of that. I roll toward him, snuggling into his chest as I wrap my arms around his back. “No worries,” I say into the crook of his shoulder. “It’s Austin, from the gym. He calls me that and it’s super annoying.”
Kris chuckles and I can picture what his face looks like, even though I can’t see it. “Did you ever date that guy?” he asks with mild hesitation.
I shake my head and whisper a single word, “Gross.”
We cuddle together for another hour or so, all wrapped up in his soft sheets on his soft bed, the sounds of the ocean lulling me into a happy state of mind. Neither of us says a word, but we don’t have to. I can almost feel our thoughts as palpable entities lying between us on the bed. They’re happy and sad, angsty and relieved. There is so much left unsaid between Kris and me, but all of that can wait.
All that matters is that we’re here, that we’re together. The way we were always supposed to be.
“How do you like your eggs?”
I feel myself blush at the question, as silly and cliché as it is. I climb up on a barstool and look at Kris, who stands with a frying pan in his hand as he waits for the answer to his question. He takes a carton of eggs from the refrigerator and wiggles it at me. “I’m a scrambled guy myself, but I’ll make yours any way you’d like.”
“Scrambled is fine,” I say, tapping my fingers over the smooth granite countertops. Nathan and I dated for six years and he never made me breakfast. Of course, he usually slept over at my house. Breakfast at my house is typically coffee and a protein bar. Remembering my manners, or at least—pretending to have manners, I ask, “Would you like some help cooking?”
He shakes his head and twists the knob on the stove until blue flames shoot up from the middle of the metal burner. I help out in the only way I can, by making a pot of coffee and then staying the hell out of his way. A gorgeous man cooking for me is a rare occurrence and I do not want to miss a single moment of its glory.
I sip coffee and study the lines of his shoulder blades as he cooks with his back to me. My phone rings from somewhere inside his bedroom where I drunkenly tossed my purse last night, but I don’t bother to rush after it because it’s Susan’s ringtone. That woman knows me just as well as Cat and there’s no way I could hide something this juicy from her. So, she’ll just have to wait to talk to me. I’ll see her at work in—I check the time on the microwave—nine hours.
“I should probably go back to sleep after this,” I say.
“Why is that?” he asks while flipping bacon in the frying pan next to the scrambled eggs. “Do you already miss making love to me?”
I grab a plastic chip clip off the counter and throw it at him. “You wish. You are so freaking arrogant.” I ignore his childish laughter as he rubs the back of his head where my perfect aim hit him with the clip. “I work nights, in case you forgot. I need to get some more sleep so I can stay up all night at the gym.”
“O
h I don’t think your boss will mind if you pass out at work,” he says as he twists more knobs on the stove and sets some bacon strips on a paper towel.
I tap my finger to my chin as if deep in thought. “I wonder how much money I could get if I sue for sexual harassment…”
Kris turns around, spatula in hand as he makes an overdramatic surprised expression. “Who’s harassing you? Is it Susan? That whore!”
I can’t help but laugh. In the exact moment I realize how amazing it feels to laugh like this and just have fun with someone, I realize another important fact: I am laughing with my brother’s killer. How would Tyler feel about this?
Kris makes me a plate and then sits next to me at the bar his own plate that’s piled high with eggs and bacon and four slices of toast. “What’s wrong? You seem out of it all of a sudden.”
I shake my head as I move my fork through my food. “I’m going to be honest with you, Kris,” I begin as a lump forms in my throat. I take a bite of eggs to swallow it down.
Kris sets down his fork and looks at me, eyebrows drawn together in sincerity. “Talk to me.”
“I still love you.” The words hang in the air for a moment before I speak again. “But I hated you for so long. I’m not sure if I’m confusing the two.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder and then steps off his barstool and pulls me into a warm hug. “I understand.”
I tilt my head up to look at him as my fingers clamp around his waist. “What are we supposed to do?”
He inhales a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “Take it one day at a time.” I can’t help but sigh—an expression of the sadness I feel. I wish things were different. I wish I could be happy without feeling guilty about it.
Kris steps back and cups my face in his hands. “I can never make up for what I did. I can’t go back and change the past, and you have no idea how badly I wish I could. But I promise you this, Delaney, you are my only priority. I will be here for you, for anything you need. Even if you decide that you still hate me.”
I blink and a tear rolls down my cheek. He wipes it away with his thumb and lowers his forehead to mine. “I will never leave you again.”
