Page 74 of Right Man, Right Time
“You want the truth?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“Well, I’m feeling like I have a touch of whiplash with you. One second, you’re incredibly sweet and helping me through this odd arrangement we have, then the next, you ignore me completely, and now you’re back to the first guy.”
“The real man is the one you’re seeing now and the one you saw before the event. The in-between is a part of me that I hate.”
“Well, maybe you can lean on me a bit more next time.”
“Yeah.” I grip her hand that’s against my chest. “I think I will.”
“Good.” She covers her mouth while she yawns. “Now, let me get some sleep.”
“Okay. Night . . . Oliana.”
“Urghhh,” she grumbles. “I knew you would use it.”
* * *
I checkmy phone and see that breakfast has been delivered, so I sneak out of bed and pad across the floor. Thankfully, I had them deliver it right to her door. So I crack the door open and pick up the bag of pastries and sandwiches, as well as the four coffees I’ve purchased because I was unsure of her preference.
I quietly shut the door and bring breakfast back to the main room, where I see her sit up in bed and rub her eye.
“Is that coffee I smell?” she asks.
I pause, right there in the middle of the floor, and stare at her. The light from her window shines in, illuminating her from behind. Pieces of her hair have tumbled out of her bun, framing her face, and her shirt that barely covers her breasts sits extremely tight against her hard nipples. I truly think every crop top she owns is my new favorite shirt because fuck it’s hot.
Her eye pops open, and she says, “Uh . . . you okay?” That’s when her eyes land on my bare chest, and I watch with satisfaction as they scan me. From the way my jeans ride very low on my hips, up my stacked stomach, and then to my large pecs, at this moment, even though I’m sore, I’ve never been happier about my workout routine.
“I’m fine, you?” I ask her.
“Good,” she replies quickly. “Is that, uh . . . is that breakfast?”
“It is.” I walk up to the bed, set the bag on her nightstand, and then check out the coffees. “I have a vanilla latte, caramel latte, black coffee, and a chai. I didn’t know what you would want.”
“Caramel please,” she says as she reaches out her hand. I find the latte and hand it to her while I pick up the black coffee for myself, grateful she didn’t choose that one since I really need it. “What’s in the bag?”
I pull out the contents and lay them on the nightstand. “Egg and sausage sandwiches, pastries, and a muffin. Once again, didn’t know what you wanted.”
“Egg sandwich all day, every day,” she says while snagging one. I do the same and then sit next to her. Together we unwrap the sandwiches and take a bite. “I could get used to this,” she says.
“Get used to what?”
“Hand-delivered breakfast in bed by a shirtless guy. Sign me up.”
“What do you like more? The shirtless guy or the breakfast?”
“Clearly the breakfast.” She smirks.
I playfully bump her shoulder with mine.
“You spill the coffee, you clean the sheets. Possibly purchase a new mattress.”
“Not a fan of the smell of coffee?” I ask.
“Not in my bed.”
I take another bite of my sandwich, then lean my head against her wall. “My dorm was nothing like this when I was in college.”
