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“I mean, it doesn’t smell like garbage, but itismorning. Ya know? I had one boyfriend who had the worst halito—ow!”

Shae jumps when I land a smack somewhere in the vicinity of her left butt cheek.

“First, you know that didn’t hurt.” I give her an eye roll, and she gives me one in return. “Second, another rule of people not to talk about when my dick is so close to you: any ex-boyfriends.”

She rolls her eyes again, amping up the drama in the move times ten.

“Operative word being ‘boy.’”

She sighs into the sheets.

“Okay, Storm. After we get cleaned up, I’ll make breakfast for us.”

That has something in my chest warming.

“You’d cook for me? Do you like cooking?”

She smiles, and it’s soft, small.

“I love to cook, Storm. It was one of the ways my mama and I bonded, so I learned to love being in the kitchen. It’s mainly thatI don’t have a lot of time to cook here like I want, but I’m sure I can whip something up.”

“I’ll help,” I say, but Shae’s eyes widen.

“No! Um, I mean, no. I want to do this for you. My treat.” She smiles, but it looks a little strained.

“You think I can’t cook, don’t you?”

Shae looks left and right. “Well, it’s not that I don’t think you can— Oh, what the hell. You remember the sides you made when I came over? With the chicken marsala?”

I nod. “Yes,” I reply cautiously. “I thought I did pretty okay with those.”

The mashed potatoes and carrots were easy enough to assemble according to the instructions, but….

“Yes. They were…pretty okay.” Her eyes widen and she gives me the most pitifully fake innocent gaze that I burst out laughing.

“Shae?” I ask, laughing so hard I have to lean back on the pillows. “You’re a terrible liar, baby.”

She goes back to her cocoon.

“Okay, fine, they were terrible. Didn’t you think they were terrible?” she asks, exasperated.

“So the carrots were a little crunchy?—”

“Babe, they wereraw.And the glaze wasn’t reduced down. The potatoes were gritty, beloved.”

I’m howling now, tears streaming down my face as I try to catch my breath.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. They were pretty terrible. But you ate all of it, so that has to mean something, right?”

Shae smiles. “Yes. It’s a testament to my affection for you.”

Well, hell, if those words don’t have me wanting to sing an Usher ballad.

After we’ve both freshened up and Shae has some needed ingredients delivered, she dances around the kitchen while Beyoncé plays at max volume on her phone.

I sit at the kitchen island, leaning on an elbow as I watch her work. She’s dressed in an oversized graphic T-shirt withRugratson the front, and nothing else besides her fuzzy slippers and a pair of black cotton panties I watched her slip into after her shower.

“Druuuuuunk in loooooooove!” she sings into her spatula while the bell peppers and onions sauté, then she jumps into the hip-swinging dance Beyoncé performed in the music video. Whipping her hair around, her ass and tits jiggle, causing me to drool, and I stare completely mesmerized as joy and happiness radiates off her.