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I’m smiling so hard, my fucking cheeks hurt.

When Jay-Z’s verse is about to start, I move behind her where she stirs the food in the skillet. Sliding my arms around her waist and pressing her body close to mine, the lyrics I’ve memorized from the song being on rotation at Bambi’s place flow from me.

And when I get to the part about slipping the panties to the side, Shae lets out a small, rumbling groan that has me wanting to sit her on the island and make her body my breakfast.

“Storm!” she says with a bright laugh. “Sustenance, man. Jeez, you’re like a machine.”

I arch an eyebrow and spin her around, landing a kiss on her swollen lips.

“Fine. But you better hurry up, woman. I’ve gotta be inside you one more time before I leave.”

A strange look crosses her face in a flash before it’s gone. Reaching past me, she lowers the volume on her phone and gives me a small smile. She returns her attention to the stove, tossingthe vegetables once again before moving to the large bowl with six whipped eggs.

“I’m sure you have a busy day ahead,” she says, pouring the mixture in the skillet and lowering the flame.

The question hangs in the air, and I press closer to her back, inhaling deep the scent of what I’ve now learned is her leave-in conditioner.

“What’s wrong, Shae?” I murmur close to her ear, kissing the delicate flesh behind her lobe.

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” she replies, concentrating hard on flipping the edges of the eggs to fold them over.

“Shae,” I press. “Tell me what thought just had you stressing.” I place my palm over her lower stomach, my pinky resting on the edge of her panty line. For a brief, wild second, I imagine her round with my baby, my seed taking root and forming perfect little Shae replicas.

Dumb, I know. We’re too young and she has way too much she wants to accomplish to make that even a reasonable thought right now. Theoretically, there’s a lot I want to accomplish too, but now, thinking about it, all the things I wanted—Stratos, legacy, acknowledgment—none of that really matters now.

But a baby with Shae? There’s a voice in my soul that’s yelling loud as fuck, “I want that.”

Andwantingthat is something I’ve never expected.

Shae takes a deep, measured inhale before blowing it all out in one move. At the same time, she flips the omelet onto the folds and sprinkles on some cheddar cheese. With nothing left to do for several seconds, she spins out of my embrace and faces me while leaning against the sliver of countertop to the left of the stove.

She folds her arms across her chest.

“It’s just that…once you walk out that door, this all becomesa thing.You know?”

My eyebrows draw down. “A thing? We’ve always been a thing, Shae.”

She throws her hands up before tucking them beneath her breasts again.

“You know what I mean, Storm. This becomes a whole thing that happened. Right now, it’s like we’re in a bubble. I’m….”

Scared.

I’m able to fill in her words easily in my mind because I understand how she feels, and I’d be lying if I didn’t feel fear, too—but likely for a completely different reason than Shae.

She slides the now-finished meal onto a plate and shuts off the burner, turning toward me and recrossing her arms against her chest.

“Come here, Shae,” I say, my voice a low command.

She doesn’t unfold her arms, instead she takes two large steps until she’s nearly pressed to my chest.

“Good girl,” I murmur, rubbing my thumb on her cheek as I cup it with my palm. “Do you remember what I told you, baby?”

“What?” she replies after clearing her throat.

“I said,” I pull her closer, so our bodies are flush, our faces inches apart. She drops her arms to eat up the space between us. “Once I slide into your pussy, you’re mine and I’m yours. We’re together. It doesn’t have to get more complicated than that.”

She smiles up at me, her expression a little nervous.