“Why don’t you take a seat?” he suggested, pulling out a chair for me. “And let
me cook breakfast for my queen.”
As he busied himself again at the stove, I quietly grabbed Mr. Clean and a rag and vigorously cleaned the counter, hoping to block last night’s memories from my mind.
Keep cool and clean.
I kept my back to him, biting my lip and knowing my face was crab red while I scrubbed. I searched the floor for any of my clothing but didn’t see them anywhere.
Where had he put them? I decided not to ask him and to look for them later.
Breakfast was a stack of distorted pancakes—Caleb had gotten better at making them, since there were no eggshells—charred bacon, and fruit cut into bite-size pieces.
I told him I was giving him an A for effort. He seemed pleased.
I had insisted that we eat on the balcony, not at the counter. He flashed me a meaningful smile but thankfully didn’t say anything.
Since we had a few more hours before my classes started—his wasn’t till four—we grabbed our textbooks and started studying.
I stared at the same page for fifteen minutes, absorbing nothing.
Caleb sat across from me. He was wearing a black muscle shirt, his toned arms exposed. My eyes followed the line of his neck, the strong, sharp curve of his jaw. His eyes were focused on the book in front of him, a little furrow in his brow marring his smooth forehead. I’d noticed he had a habit of biting the end of his pen, as he was doing now. My gaze shifted to admire the shape of his lips, the way they parted slightly so the end of the pen was just inside his mouth. His mouth…
His eyes suddenly slid up to mine.
And my breath caught.
His grin was slow. And knowing. Naughty.
I averted my gaze and reached for the orange juice. Drank deeply.
“Hey, Red?”
I placed the glass back on the coaster with a loud clunk.
“What?” I injected irritation into my voice, flipping to the next page in my book. Pretending to read.
I didn’t need to look to know he still had that mischievous grin on his lips.
“Want a kiss?”
I bit my lip, which desperately wanted to form a smile. “No.”
He leaned closer. “I do.” He pouted his lips for a kiss.
I let out a strangled laugh. “Caleb, move over.”
“Sure thing.” He moved his chair closer so our arms touched. “Close enough?”
His phone started vibrating, and since it was on the table, my eyes automatically glanced at the screen.
It was Beatrice-Rose calling him. He ignored it.
“My kiss, Red, where—”
It rang again.
I sighed. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”