Page 42

CHAPTER 42

SEE YOU FOR DINNER

JACKSON

I ’m in the middle of making breakfast when Theo finally comes downstairs. “Good morning,” he says sleepily before wrapping his arms around me and peeking over my shoulder. “Waffles?”

I shut the waffle maker and turn my head to look at him. “Protein waffles. Cottage cheese, oatmeal, and eggs. Little splash of vanilla and some cinnamon, top it with some fruit and you have a delicious and nutritious breakfast.”

Theo scrunches his face in disgust. “No thanks. I’ll just have some?—”

“Eggs on toast? Yeah, I made it already.” I nod to the kitchen island where his plate is sitting covered with some tinfoil.

“It really is creepy how much you know about me,” he says as he sits down on the stool at the island. I don’t miss how his face lights up when he uncovers his plate, though.

“Yeah, well”—I take a sip of my coffee—“I’m a good observer.”

“More like a good stalker,” he mumbles as he takes a giant bite of his food.

“What was that?”

“Hmmm? Nope. Nothing.”

I narrow my eyes playfully and smile. “Coffee?”

“Love some,” he replies.

“Want creamer or protein powder?”

“Ummm… creamer. What the hell is with all the protein?”

I pour him a cup and set it on the counter in front of him. “You do know I’m an athlete right?”

“Yeah, what does—oh, nevermind. Dumb question.”

I shoot him a wink. “Anyway, I have to go lift weights this morning before class, and then I have practice at three. You coming to our practice today?”

“No,” he replies with his mouth full. “I have to go to the girls basketball practice this afternoon. One of them strained her hamstring and three of them are working with sprained ankles. Jack”—who is one of the other athletic trainers on staff—“is going to need some extra help.”

“Alright. Well, after practice I’m going to go talk to Emerson about everything then… well… pack up my stuff and bring it here I guess?”

“Okay,” Theo answers casually.

“Just okay?” I ask.

Theo does a double take before smiling softly and setting down his silverware. Finally, he decides to swallow his food before he speaks. “We’re married. You’re my husband now, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to live here? There’s no pressure. If you’d rather live across the street until you’re more comfortable, that is totally understandable. I think I’ve learned my lesson by pushing you to do things you don’t want to do.”

I huff a faint laugh. “Do-do you want me here?”

Without hesitation he answers, “Of course I do.”

“Then… yeah, I think I do want to live here. With you.”

“Perfect.” He picks his fork back up and shoves yet another bite into his mouth. “I have an office I never use. I’ll clean it out before I go to work today. You can set all of your computer equipment up in there.”

I widen my eyes for a moment at how in-stride he is taking all of this. But now that I think about it, he was living with a woman he didn’t even want to be with. So, I suppose moving me in is no issue. “Oh, well, thank you.”

“Of course,” he answers, before taking his last bite, picking up his plate, and putting it in the dishwasher. “Thanks for breakfast.”

I turn around and lean against the counter. “You’re welcome.”

He comes to me, stopping only once his lips ghost mine. “Enjoy your breakfast.” He kisses me, the taste of his eggs coating my lips, before grabbing his coffee and heading upstairs as he calls over his shoulder, “Have a good day at school, Honey.”

“Y-you, too.” I stand there slack-jawed for a moment. Completely perplexed by how… easy that all felt. If I’m being honest, the entirety of the last seventy-two hours has been a complete contrast to our relationship over the last year and a half, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t giving me a tiny bit of whiplash.

Yet… as strange as it all feels, it also feels… so right.

And because the entirety of our relationship has been nothing but questioning every move, every touch, every encounter, I decide to simply bask in the simplicity of the moment. So, I plate my waffle, enjoy my breakfast, and go about my day.

And later that day, after I fill Emerson in and listen to him complain endlessly that I got married and didn’t tell him—which I do admittedly feel a little bad about—I pack up my belongings and bring them over to Theo’s house.

Our house.

After I spend hours setting up my new office and unpacking my clothes into Theo’s magically half-empty closet, the two of us make chicken parmesan for dinner, followed by cuddling up on the couch to a movie. Which admittedly resulted in a very heavy makeout session twenty minutes in, which may or may not have resulted in sex on the living room floor, before we went to bed.

And for the next three weeks that’s exactly how our days went. Blissfully and unapologetically simple .