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I mean.
There was no way she meant him. The fact that I even thought about it was annoying, and I forced the consideration from my mind. It wouldn’t do to approach my intruder this morning with any vague notion that he was supposed to be anything beyond a handsome annoyance.
I sighed and sat up, hoping an upright posture would banish strange wistful thinking about naked strangers and fortunes. And I wished, not for the first time, that I had a bathroom attached to the bedroom. But as things were, I would have to leave the bedroom to do what needed doing this morning.
As I opened the door a crack, the scent of breakfast floated temptingly down the hallway. Bacon? And muffins? Was this guy baking in my kitchen? And... was he humming? I thought I recognized the tune. It was from a musical. Rock was into Broadway? Hmm.
I tiptoed to the bathroom and slipped in, locking the door and turning on the shower, letting out a sigh of relief that I hadn’t bumped into him in the hallway.
While I showered, I thought about the man in my house. Maybe he was trying to make amends for scaring me by cooking me breakfast. Maybe we could start over, figure this out like civil adults. He’d offered an olive branch by cooking. I could be a bigger person and try to be nice this morning, even if the whole situation was extremely weird.
Nattie would no doubt find somewhere else for him to stay, and I could get back to my regular life, which consisted mostly of lonely nights in this apartment and worrying about whether I needed to grow up and get a real job, something I’d been thinking for a while.
Dressed and cleaned up, I lifted my chin and ventured into the kitchen, expecting to see a spread of breakfast foods and a contrite intruder. Instead, the kitchen was a disaster, and there wasn’t a speck of bacon to be seen.
Rock, thankfully wearing clothes—or at least the same pair of shorts he’d had on the night before—sat at my little round table, drinking coffee and staring at his phone. He didn’t even look up when I walked in, which was annoying because I might have put a little extra effort into my hair and makeup. Not for him, of course.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Morning,” he said, still staring at his phone. I gazed around the disaster that was my kitchen. “Did you make breakfast?”
“Yup.”
I frowned. He was still staring at his phone, making no move to help me find the bacon that smelled so delicious my stomach was screaming for it. “Is there bacon?”
Rock finally turned to look at me, his eyes shifting from passive to something darker as he took me in. “Ah... there was.”
“You didn’t make any for me?” That was annoying. And the fact that the morning light was catching the smattering of fine blond hair on his very substantial chest and highlighting every single muscle in his enormous arms did not make up for a lack of bacon.
“It’s not like you’re a guest here,” he said. “I assumed you’d make whatever you wanted when you got up.”
I swung my gaze around the kitchen again, spotting the coffee pot. At least there was coffee. Of course, Rock was using my favorite mug, a wide thick-walled cup in the shape of a porcupine that said, “Stick ‘em Up,” on it.
“You’re using my mug.”
Rock turned to look at me over the kitchen island, which was now strewn with bowls and spoons. “Let me ask you a question. Drea, was it?”
“Yes, ROCK.” I sneered his stupid name.
“Was this place furnished when you moved in?”
I crossed my arms. “Well, yes.”
“Then is any of this stuff actually yours?”
I stiffened. “I live here. It’s mine.”
“Well,” he said, lifting his phone to his face again. “Before you lived here, it was all mine. And this is my favorite mug.”
“Did you make muffins?” I hated the tiny plea in my voice, but whatever he’d made smelled fantastic. He could give Lottie Tanner a run for her money.
“I did,” he said, again not offering me any.
“Are there any left?”
“Nope.”
“You ate a dozen muffins?” I asked him, incredulous. When he didn’t answer, I huffed out a frustrated breath and poured myself a cup of coffee in my second-favorite mug. This one was a Wilcox Wombats mug with a ferocious wombat on skates on one side.
