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But I’d just gotten home from a shift that lasted about twelve hours longer than I’d expected it to. Maci needed to leave for work soon. And, at the moment, she was glaring at me in a way that had my smile widening, even though I tried like hell to fight it.
“Where’s what?” I asked, not even bothering to sound innocent.
“You know what, you asshole,” she whispered, pointing at me accusingly. “Give me my K-cups and no one gets hurt.”
A hushed laugh pushed from my lungs. “You’re angry before caffeine—noted.”
“No,” she countered, head shaking stubbornly. “I’m grumpy when it’s kept from me and furious when it’s stolen from me. So, where’s my coffee?”
“Told you you were out.”
“I am—ugh,” she seethed. “I was so not out, and I know you took them.”
“Oh, I took more than that,” I admitted wryly, then nodded behind her to what she’d so obviously missed in her hunt for the K-cups. “Thanks for the Keurig.”
A gasp tore through her as she looked at the machine. But before she could come back with an exasperated remark, I closed the distance between us and cradled her face in my hands, bringing her enraged stare back to me.
“Good morning,” I whispered before lowering my mouth to hers.
“You’re an asshole,” she whispered even as she gripped my shirt, pulling me closer as she relaxed against me and the kiss. Opening for me and sighing in that way that tugged at every part of me. “Missed you.”
The corner of my mouth lifted when I drew back enough to study her expression, a complete contradiction to what it’d been just seconds before. All lazy smiles and dancing eyes and heated cheeks.
“I was thinking about you on my way home,” I began as I slid one of my hands into her hair. “I hated that I couldn’t make it back last night and that I might not see you before you left.”
“So, you stole my coffee and coffee maker?”
“Relocated,” I corrected with a wink.
A hum of amusement sounded in her throat. “Ah, yes. I’ll remember that word when I figure out how to pay you back.”
“It got you here, didn’t it?” I asked softly. “I’m seeing you.”
Her eyes brightened as they searched mine. “You could’ve shown up or messaged me. I would’ve been here even just to say ‘hi’ before you fell asleep.”
My head shook as she spoke. “This way, even if I’m not here, you’ll still be in my space every morning. This way, even if I miss my nights with you, I know you’ll be here when I’m getting ready to crash, if I haven’t already.”
Her pouty lips formed a perfect O at the implication. Clearing her throat, she glanced around before meeting my stare again. “Are my clothes going to be relocated next?”
I hesitated at the picture she painted with a simple question.
I’d meant what I said. I wanted to know Maci was here, even if just for a few minutes every morning. But what had started as an easy fix so we could have a few stolen minutes on the days our schedules didn’t match up had turned into a question of us potentially moving in together.
Something I hadn’t even considered until that exact moment.
Then again, I wasn’t sure why the thought shocked me when we were practically living together. Every night I made it home was spent at one of our apartments before we fell asleep in each other’s arms. Unless I was rushing out the door, we woke early to have lazy mornings of coffee and breakfast. Time enjoying each other as we slowly got ready for work before heading separate ways.
Would it really be so bad?
“That silence sounds like a no,” she whispered in understanding.
“I didn’t say no,” I countered just as my phone chimed. But instead of reaching for it, I pulled her closer. Studying her and contemplating this idea she’d placed in my head until another two chimes went off.
“That could be work,” she said, voicing my thoughts as I moved one of my arms to her waist and reached for my phone with the other.
But when I saw the messages on the lock screen, my blood ran cold, and it felt like someone was crushing my lungs.
Dylan Price
