“But you hate cooking.”
“I know, but I remember you telling me about your lucky game day breakfast your mom used to make for you when you were in high school and how you make it for yourself now. I know it’s not a game day, but it is a pretty important day where you could use a little luck, so I thought I would try andmake it for you. Except when I got down here, I remembered I hate cooking because I suck at it. And I hate sucking at things. So, I called Ben who is, like, the breakfast king, and he was no help even though he makes omelets for Hallie every damn morning. Why is it so hard to tell me how long to cook a pepper for?”
I chuckle, then cup her neck with one hand and tip her head up, bringing my mouth to hers in a long, slow, dizzying kiss. When we break apart, Julie looks marginally less disgruntled.
“Okay, I mean, I don’t think I deserve a reward when I can’t even make breakfast like a regular human, but there are worse ways than that to start a morning.”
I wink at her, taking the spatula from her hand, setting it on the counter, and slinging the dish towel over my bare shoulder.
“So damn hot,” Julie mumbles.
Grinning, I guide her to one of the barstools that line the kitchen island, sit her down on it, and rest my hands on the island on either side of her, caging her in. “I can think of about ten better ways to start a morning than that, but they all involve you being naked in my bed and, sadly, we don’t have time for that just now. But we do have time for breakfast, which I’ll make. Ben isn’t the only breakfast king.”
Julie’s face brightens. “Does that mean you’ll make me breakfast every morning like Ben does for Hallie? That smug queen comes waltzing into the office every morning, caffeinated and well fed and totally sexed up and it’s beneath me to be jealous of that, but you know what?”
I grin at her, loving morning, playful Julie. “You’re jealous of that?”
She points a finger right at my chest. “Bet your ass I am.”
“Juliette, I will keep you so caffeinated, well fed, and sexed up that even Hallie herself will be green with envy.”
“If this is what having a boyfriend is like, I should have gotten one forever ago.”
“Fuck no you shouldn’t have. No boyfriends unless they’re me.”
She gives me a sly smile. “I love it when you talk jealous to me.”
“I’ll give you jealous.” I lean in and kiss her neck, before latching on with my teeth, biting gently and growling into her skin, relishing the warmth and smell of her.
“Okay!” she laughs. “I think I was promised breakfast.”
“At your service,” I say, “but I’ll caffeinate you first.”
“Oh, I figured that out myself.” She points to a half full coffee mug I missed. “Googled the instructions to the espresso machine when I woke up.”
“You figured out that monstrosity but had to call Ben to ask how to cook a pepper?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, so?”
I just look at her, awed by all of her complexities and contradictions, hoping that I get to learn something new about her every day. “I adore you.”
“Yeah, yeah, I adore you too, but you need your lucky breakfast, and I’m starving too.”
“I’m a slave for you, Juliette.”
I pull back and give her one last kiss on the forehead before I circle the island. I flick on the burner under the pan then open a cabinet, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice before pressing it against the Dr. Pepper dispenser. Then I open the drawer with her peppermint Hershey Kisses in them and toss her a couple, which she catches handily and with a smile. I grab a handful of gummy worms from the drawer below for myself.
She studies me as she unwraps the candy. “Are you nervous about today? That’s probably a stupid question—of courseyou’re nervous about today. But I want to give you the space to talk about it if you want to.”
I lean against the island opposite her and absently trace circles around her wrist while I consider what she said and decide to give her the full truth of it. “I’m not nervous. I’m fucking terrified.” She nods, like she expected this answer, but doesn’t say anything, giving me the time to collect my thoughts.
“They could tell me my playing days are over.”
She rests a hand over mine. “They could.”
Somehow, her frank agreement does more to calm my nerves than if she had tried to slap a happy face on this and tell me everything is going to be okay.
“I don’t know how it’s going to go or what they’ll find, and it’s the unknown that’s getting to me. I wish I could fast forward time to tonight when I’ll at least know one way or another.”
