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“Don’t worry. I will make you something healthy for breakfast,” he assured me as I grumbled while he cleaned up the makings.
I didn’t know – almost as a rule – what eating so much that your waistband felt tight felt like. The genuine ‘stuffed’ feeling. Not even on holidays since my mom was more about the veggies than the starches. This was unexpectedly uncomfortable. I was pretty sure my button on my slacks was piercing through my skin.
“I think I gained five pounds,” I whined.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Kai said, turning back from putting the leftovers in the fridge. “Three tops.”
I snorted at that, shaking my head.
“I am going to beat you in that shooting game thing and force an obnoxious amount of greens down your throat.”
“You’ve never played on an Xbox before.”
“So?”
“So, I’ll wipe the floor with you, and then force you to eat a bucket a fried chicken.”
“I am going to need a whole new wardrobe after staying here for a week.”
“You eat like a bird most of the time. Your metabolism has to be set to turbo. Want some tea to take to bed?” he asked, waving a hand to the coffee pot that he hadn’t used for coffee yet. I would remedy that situation. In the morning. While watching him make me breakfast.
I’d watched him make dinner.
That felt awkward even to admit to myself, but it was true nonetheless.
I had sat at the island and watched him while I made myself useful by grating cheese and chopping tomatoes.
But I did all that while watching him move around his kitchen with a sort of masculine grace.
There was something primally sexual about a man cooking for you, nourishing you, taking care of you.
Sexual.
Jesus.
Okay.
“Do you have chamomile?” I asked, figuring something calming was certainly in order if I was suddenly thinking cooking was sexual.
“Sure do,” he agreed, flicking on the kettle as he reached up for – I kid you not – a tea caddy. “Go on and get ready for bed. I’ll bring it in when it’s done.”
With that, I did, getting into my usual sleeping attire of short silky sleep shorts and a matching camisole, climbing into bed, and waiting.
I heard him moving down the hall, whistling one of the songs that had been on while he cooked – a song from one of my playlists.
And, incredibly, I felt a rush of anticipation coursing through my system, making my pulse quicken, my skin feel tingly.
As crazy as that was.
“Hey,” he said, moving into the doorway, my steaming mug in his hand. His voice was odd. Almost a little rough.
“Hey.” Okay. And my voice was a bit airy.
My breathing went a bit deeper, and Kai’s gaze seemed to dip. No, it didn’t seem to. It did. It followed the line of my throat, over the exposed skin of my chest. As I took another breath, I could feel my nipples tightening, brushing up against the cool material of my camisole.
Across from me, Kai’s eyes closed as he drew in a deep breath, forcing his gaze to lift, to hold mine as he approached, setting the mug down on my nightstand. “Sleep tight, Jules,” he said, voice soft, running his finger down the top of my nose before disappearing out of my room, closing the door on his way out.
I barely slept, my mind and body keeping me tossing and turning all night.
I woke up around seven after catching a few short hours, shooting out of the bed in a panic.
Seven.
I never slept until seven.
I grabbed my blush pink silk robe, making a quick stop to brush my teeth and flatten my hair before moving down the hallway toward the kitchen.
I shocked back at the sound of Kai’s phone ringing, finding myself pausing as there was a second then Kai’s voice.
“What’s up?”
“You lied to me,” Quin’s voice broke into the apartment, making it clear Kai had put the call on speaker.
Kai paused. “About?”
“About where you’ve been. See, I can’t quite buy that you were out having fun with Bellamy when I got an envelope today by courier filled with a couple hundred grand and a note saying it was Jules’, minus his fee. You lied to me.”
“Technically, I lied to Miller,” Kai qualified.
“What the fuck is going on, Kai? Why was Jules missing what had to be her whole savings?”
There was silence from Kai, forcing me to fight back the surge of discomfort as I moved out of the hall and into the kitchen.
“It’s okay, Kai,” I said, voice sounding much more sure than I actually felt in the moment.
“Is that Jules?” Quin’s voice asked, sounding surprised.
“Yeah,” I affirmed, taking a deep breath, having to remind myself to stay calm as Kai came up beside me, pressing a mug of coffee into my hands.
“You’re supposed to be on vacation. Jules, talk,” he demanded when I said nothing, just took a sip of my coffee, not even caring that it burned my tongue.
