Page 63 of Word to the Wise

“Fuck.” I flip theegg, and it pops all over the pan.

How is one of the hardest parts of cooking flipping a fucking egg?

I’ll just have to make sure to give Reed one of the good ones.

Movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention as she makes her way down the hallway.

Her hair’s piled on her head in a messy bun with thick pieces falling around her face. She’s wearing one of her tank tops and underwear, showing off the full length of her short legs. Her cheeks are still flushed from last night, and the only reason I didn’t bury myself inside her when I first opened my eyes this morning is because her stomach growled, and I couldn’t stand the thought of her being hungry.

I swear this girl has me wrapped around her finger, and she doesn’t even know it.

If she didn’t have me before, last night sealed something inside me because it wasn’t just sex. She let me inside her mind, her heart. I swear when I looked into her golden-brown eyes, there was the kind of trust that scares the crap out of me. And I was craving it.

She held my hand through everything I admitted, and she wants me despite it.

As she steps into the kitchen, three words rattle around on the tip of my tongue, but I hold them back because they’ll scare the shit out of her.

“Hey there, chef.” She winks, coming up beside me and resting her hands on the counter.

The way she leans forward has her back arching, which makes her round ass stick out. She’s an itty-bitty thing but curvy. Perfect handfuls to grab onto that make me rock hard just thinking about it.

“You’re going to make me pop another egg yolk if you keep distracting me with this thing.”

Reaching over, I smack her on the ass, but she doesn’t so much as flinch. If anything, her smile widens.

Reed isn’t fragile. She likes it a little rough. At every nip of my teeth or hard pinch of her nipples, she just fucked me harder. It was so hot watching her take control and ride me. No fear as she chased her pleasure. The sight of her sitting on my cock is going to be burned into my brain forever.

Every day, she becomes more herself, and it’s beautiful. She reclaims pieces I sense she forgot.

“Sorry.” She pretends to pout, but instead of putting on pants, she drops her elbows to the counter, which just bends her over even more.

“Keep it up, and I’ll find ways for you to make it up to me.”

She wets her lips, and I’m tempted to shove her to her knees. I might if I didn’t want to feed her breakfast so badly.

“You cut up fruit.” She grabs a piece of honeydew off the fruit platter and pops it into her mouth.

“Thought you might like it.” That’s what this girl reduces me to—someone who knows the difference between different kinds of melons.

“I do.” She steals a blueberry off the tray, standing up tall as she turns to face me. “Where did you learn how to cook?”

I chuckle as I pull the eggs off the heat and transfer them to the plate.

“My phone taught me.”

Her eyebrows pinch as she looks me over.

“Here.” I slide her plate to her spot at the kitchen island and sink onto the stool next to her. “I’d never really cooked until a couple of months ago.”

She’s chewing another piece of melon but pauses at my comment. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I pretty much lived on fast food and anything you can heat up in a microwave.”

“So, what changed?”

I slide a bite of eggs into my mouth and watch her as her eyes work. Her expression pinches with confusion until realization has her eyes widening.

“You learned to cook for me?”