My stomach rumbles so loud that my shoulders tense and I watch Zak to make sure that super unattractive noise didn’t wake him before I slowly roll out of bed. I haven’t eaten since Summer and I went to lunch yesterday, so I should definitely get breakfast going and I’ll need to make enough to accommodate my giant house guest too. Food will be important after all the blood loss and beer.
Tip-toeing through my bedroom, I stop and stuff my feet into my fuzzy Dr. Seuss slippers—Thing 1 and Thing 2, in case you were wondering—then step out of my room and pull the door mostly closed so I don’t wake Zak but can still hear if he needs me.
I hit Fabio’s room first, walk in and pull the cover off his cage. The only reason he even has one is so I can throw a sheet over it for bedtime because my sweet bird will stay up chattering all night if I don’t.
“Morning, beautiful,” he squawks, stretches his wings and starts moving back and forth on his perch. “Morning, beautiful. Pretty boy. Time to get up. Need my coffee. Time to get up.”
I giggle as I open the cage. “Good morning, Fabio. Did you sleep well?”
“Sleepy head. Dreamland. Sleepy head. Need my coffee.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I stick my arm through the opening and let him shuffle up to my shoulder. Fabio immediately fixes my glasses before he gives me his version of kisses. “What should I make for breakfast? No special coffee or baked goods today, sweet boy. We still have company.”
“Pretty boy. Pretty boy. What the fuck was that? Pretty boy.”
I laugh so hard I snort as Fabio mimics what Zak said the night he brought me home and heard him greet us. I swear my parrot is too smart for his own good and definitely has labeled Zakpretty boyright along with himself, a title I didn’t think Fabio would share so easily.
“Yes.” Another giggle. “Zak is still here so we have to be quiet because he’s sleeping.”
“Shhh. Ninja stealth. Shhh. Pretty boy. What the fuck was that? Shhh.”
So freaking smart.
We head down the hall to the kitchen, Fabio immediately heading to his perch above the sink. I quickly throw together his breakfast of fruit and seeds sans vegan pastry, then start a pot of coffee. From there I turn on my morning playlist—mostly pop and upbeat stuff from the last couple of decades—and let the music drift quietly through my Bluetooth speakers while I find something that will feed myself as well as my sleeping giant.
I can scramble eggs with mushrooms, peppers, and onions.
Thick cut bacon.
Belgian waffles from scratch with fruit sounds pretty amazing too.
I start dancing around the kitchen asJust Danceby Lady Gaga comes on, taking out pans and my waffle maker, mixing bowl and big utensils. The bacon goes into the frying pan, and the mushrooms too. The smell is divine and makes my tummy growl again. Within minutes, I’m shaking my skinny ass like it’s my job to do it, the breakfast of kings already in the works, but when I’m shoulders deep in the fridge looking for the rest of my ingredients, that’s when the real Theo strikes again.
“Smells good.”
I jump sky high at that sleep-heavy voice, nail my head on the roof of the fridge then fall forward onto the shelf, my knees in the crisper drawers, face inches from the key lime pie I made two nights ago. As if that weren’t embarrassing enough, when I try to recover and get out of my refrigerator, my foot gets caught in the rack on the door and I wind up falling on my ass and taking the condiments with me.
“Jesus, Blondie.” My cheeks flame as Zak comes toward me in all his shirtless glory, his hair covering half of the concerned look on his face. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I give him a weak smile as he bends down to help me up. “Theo the klutz strikes again.”
Zak pulls me to my feet, looks me over for any major injuries then pushes my glasses back up my nose. “You ok?”
“I’m fine.” I nod as I brush nothing off of my oversized t-shirt. “Believe it or not, that isn't the first time that’s happened to me.”
Holy moly, Zak is pretty when he smiles.
“Your fridge attacks you on the regular?”
With a bite to my lip, I start cleaning up my mess. “Everything does. Sometimes I think it would be safer for me to wear bubble wrap and a helmet at all times just so I don’t do any serious damage.”
“Nah. You’re a pretty tough cookie.”
I turn my back, roll my eyes, and snort. “Yeah, you know me. Super tough. The definition of hardass for sure.”
A deep chuckle comes from behind me, and I have to hide the way my body reacts. Every inch of my skin breaks out into goosebumps then blushes an entirely new shade of red, my nipples pucker and my damn hoo-ha clenches before my panties go damp as if it’s possible to fuck Zak’s laugh all by itself.
Traitorous lady bits going all haywire over a man who is way too pretty to even consider looking at a stupid girl like me as anything more than a damsel in distress all the time. Zak probably has the most beautiful women falling at his feet on a regular basis, he doesn’t need me doing the same. Literally and figuratively.
