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She pets his head, then grabs some food and pours it in his dish. “We made a deal. I think by the time we return to the real world, Bruno will have his act together.”
“He’s his own boss. But hey, you’re cuter than me, so it’s possible he’ll listen.” I shoot her a wink, then go upstairs. I take a few puffs from my inhaler and set my clothes on top of the dresser. Though I feel weak, I pull off all the sheets and blankets, and put them in a big pile before spraying as much Lysol as I can handle in the room. Considering the smallest tasks exhaust me, I sit down for a short break.
Grabbing the linens, I carry them downstairs, stuff them in the wash, and start it before going to the kitchen and lathering my hands with soap. It’s weird how it’s become an obsessive part of my everyday life—wash, clean, sanitize. I didn’t think much about it before all of this happened, but now I can’t do it enough.
Cami stands at the stove, and I admire the booty shorts she’s wearing that show off her perfect ass cheeks. She’s making scrambled eggs, something she recently learned how to do when I first got sick and even whipped up some pancake mix. After a second, she catches me staring and turns and grins. “Coffee’s ready.”
I can’t stop staring as the early morning sun reflects through the window and casts a glow over her skin. Damn, she’s just so gorgeous, and she’s going to be mine. A small smile plays on my lips as I walk toward her, and she hands me the mug. I thank her, then grab some creamer before taking a sip. “Whoa,” I say, tasting the hint of chocolate. “This is different. What kind is it?”
“Some ridiculously expensive kind Daddy enjoys,” she says. “You like it?”
I nearly down half of it in two gulps. “It’s incredible.”
“Apparently…” She lingers, then chuckles. “It comes from cat poop.”
“What?” I nearly choke, looking at her with wide eyes, hoping she’s joking. “Are you serious?”
She acts like it’s no big deal. “Yeah, Kopi Luwak. Some luxurious bean. I don’t know. Sounds odd, but glad you like it, though.”
“Rich people are so fucking weird,” I murmur, and she laughs.
Cami places the eggs on two plates, covers them, then goes to a cabinet. “We have enough to last us through an apocalypse.” Cami waves her hand down a shelf, and she’s not lying. It’s full of golden coffee bags. I lean against the counter, admiring how sexy she is. “Great. Guess we’re drinking cat shit coffee for the rest of our quarantine.”
She turns around and notices my gawking, then laughs. “What? Do I have food in my teeth?”
“Nope, just thinking how fucking beautiful you are and how it was torture being away from you,” I say, setting my mug down. Reaching for her, I pull her into my arms, tempted to close the gap between us. Our mouths are inches apart, and all I want to do is kiss her. I’ve missed her so damn much, but I also don’t want to re-infect her. She should have some immunity built up, considering she survived it, but there are still a lot of unknowns about this particular virus. As I’m about to pull away, she stands on her tiptoes and moves in. Taking the lead, she parts her lips and presses them against mine. I should push her away, but now that I’m tasting her, I lose all my willpower. We exchange a searing-hot kiss, and we nearly melt into one another. I can’t help but grab her ass as she moans into my mouth.
“Eli,” she whispers.
“Mmm,” I say, plucking her bottom lip between my teeth when she pulls away.
“Our eggs are getting cold,” she says dreamily, then goes in for another.
“Not the words I want to hear right now.” I groan, adjusting myself.
Her hands twist in my hair, and the only thing that stops us from going any further is the fire alarm blaring through the cabin.
Her eyes go wide. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
I notice the burner is on with a skillet on top, and it’s smoking. Immediately, I turn it off and let out a hearty laugh.
“Right when I thought I was becoming a chef.” She groans. “At least I took the eggs out before walking away.”
“This is true,” I reassure her with a wink, opening the windows and fanning a towel to try to clear the smoke. “Nice save.”
Once the alarm is off, and our ears are safe, Cami grabs another pan and pours the pancake mix inside. “I thought I’d try my hand at pancakes since the video I watched on TikTok made it look easy.”
“You shouldn’t make them so big. They might not cook all the way through and will be difficult to flip,” I explain because I learned the hard way when I was thirteen. It always seems like a good idea, but it’s not.
