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Dash’s smile widens as he pours milk into his bowl. “Thank you.”
Damn. They’re just too adorable. So sweet I feel like I’m drinking syrup straight from the bottle.
Enough to make my chest ache for a similar connection. A partner of my own. But maybe that just stems from the general disquiet I’ve had with my life lately.
Falling in love would be nice, but it won’t fix anything.
Pushing the introspective thoughts aside, I return to my caffeine mission.
“Coffee?” I ask as Dash shovels down his breakfast at record speed.
“Oh. Sorry.” Paige holds up her half-full mug. “I made myself a latte, and Dash doesn’t like to drink coffee before work because it makes him horny.”
“Paige,” Dash groans around a mouthful of cereal. I press knuckles against my lips, trying to smooth away a smile.
“What?” She stares at him, actual confusion on her face. “It does.”
Dash pushes away from the counter. “I know,” he mutters, wrapping his arms around her waist. “But Charlie doesn’t need that information.” He presses a kiss to her cheek before stepping back.
Paige glances between the two of us, then stage-whispers, “Sorry.”
Dash shakes his head, but I can see the grin on his face as he passes me by with a pat on my shoulder.
“You two have fun. I’ll see y’all at dinner.”
Once he’s out the door and we hear the engine of the car start, I turn back to my best friend.
“Why does coffee make him horny?”
She takes a deep sip of her latte. “He says I smell like coffee. And not bad coffee breath either, which would’ve been mortifying.”
“Ah. Well, if I promise not to get a hard-on, is it okay if I brew myself a pot?”
Paige chuckles and opens a cabinet to pull out some ground coffee and a French press. “Go for it. I’m going to take a quick shower and get dressed.”
“No problem. I’ll just bond with Pumpkin.” The dog in question lies on her back in her bed, snoring heavily.
“Have fun with that.” Paige places her mug in the sink and leaves me alone in the kitchen.
With or without people, the room is small but somehow not cramped. The same way I’d describe this entire house. A perfect size for two people. And a pit bull, of course. I helped Paige pick the place out a couple of years ago. She was happy to be buying a home of her own.
And now I’m envious. Not of Dash. I’m not pining for my best friend.
The two of them are perfect for each other.
What I’m really after is my own version of the happiness she’s found.
These thoughts trickle slowly through my head as I heat water in the teapot and scoop the ground coffee into the press. At the sound of footsteps approaching, I call out, “You sure you don’t want another cup? I can make a bigger batch.”
“Yeah, I’ll take some,” says a slightly husky voice. A voice that does not belong to my friend but is familiar all the same.
Trying to not appear too eager, I rotate on my heel and meet a set of decadent brown eyes that have me pondering a piece of dark chocolate melting on my tongue.
“Luna.”Shit, what’s wrong with my voice? What sound was that? A dying rodent?
The corner of her mouth teases up. “Hey, Charlie. How’s it going?”
“Good. Great. Really, really…awesome.”
