My hand reaches for the space behind me in the bed. And feeling it is still warm, I smile. Knowing that although I can hear and smell bacon sizzling, I know that Michael was with me the whole night.
Bacon mixes with other breakfast foods I love but rarely eat. The rich creaminess of real French toast, coffee that we could never dream of affording.
It all just adds to my smile way before I even dare open my eyes.
Knowing that everything’s just as it was when Michael put me to bed.
But damn, does this guy do anything but eat? I’m gonna be twice the size I am now in no time if he keeps feeding me like this.
Holding the breakfast tray with both hands, he’s the first thing I see when I do open my eyes. Which grow wider naturally when I can see it’s the only thing covering any of his ripped body.
Breakfast in bed served naked. I think I really could get used to this.
As much as he likes to boost my ego by telling me how sexy I am, there’s no denying that he could be a model if he ever gave up construction.
Not that I’d want anyone else looking either, but it’s more than enough to make me wake up and fully sit myself up in bed as he strides across the room to serve me breakfast.
“Good morning,” he smiles, asking how I slept, placing the tray over my lap, flipping out the little legs to hold it at just the right height.
I notice my phone on the tray too, but I don’t give it a second thought for now.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I tell him, making him smile wider as he reminds me that he did.
“I need to start eating better myself,” he confesses, and turning to go again, I call after him, asking if he’s not going to share what he’s just made us.
“I got one too, don’t worry,” he chuckles, making me look at the neatly piled plates of food with wider eyes again, but reasoning if I take my time, I know I could finish all of it.
I wait for him to come back, and once he settles himself in bed next to me, I notice he’s brought his phone in on his tray too.
“I figure we can both deal with whatever’s coming at us together,” he shrugs, chomping into his Cheesy French toast, urging me with his eyes to get going and eat.
“What time is it?” I ask, noticing how bright the light is through the heavy drapes on either side of the window.
Michael shrugs higher, then starts opening and closing his mouth like a fish and blowing air out.
He really has bitten into something hotter to handle than he thought, maybe?
I know I have.
But Michael’s antics are too funny to ignore, and whether he’s doing it on purpose or not, I can’t tell. But once he manages to get over his mouth emergency, we both laugh, and even though it’s the same food, he insists I try a bite of whatever he’s having next.
“Ready?” he asks me in a serious tone. Our empty plates are stacked on trays by the bed, our phones at the ready.
I nod firmly, but as much as he’s so casual about everything, I can feel my guts balling into a knot at the thought of how many missed calls I’ll have from Dad.
And my new ‘boss,’ Jase.
It was my first day yesterday, and I left before I even did anything work-related. Now it’s day two, and I’m a no-show. Even though he’s still away, I know Jase. He’ll be checking up on me every chance he gets, making sure everyone does their job while he’s away.
Michael powers up his phone, and I do the same.
Gasping and then groaning before I even count the missed calls.
“It’s nine freaking thirty!” I practically shout, making Michael drop his phone and put both his palms on his cheeks. A mock look of shock and horror on his face before he cracks me up for the second time in as many minutes.
“I’m serious,” I grunt, playfully punching at his huge shoulder.
“I’ll get fired,” I groan, already feeling bad for letting Jase down. For not letting my Dad know where I am more than anything.
“You’re not fired,” Michael says, rolling his eyes. “Now, c’mon, we gotta do this together. I’m not kidding. We take whatever comes as it is… The good and the bad, right?” he asks, cocking a brow,
“Right,” I murmur unconvincingly, and on his say so, we both start to see what we’ve missed since yesterday.
Michael goes quiet quickly. No more mucking around as his brow furrows, and he clicks his tongue a few times, scrolling through a ton of messages, texts, and emails.
Me?
I’ve got two texts from my Dad, and just one missed call.