“Sweats and a T-shirt… yeah. So are you.” He grinned in a lazy way that sent my heart galloping.
Ohmigosh. Hormone overload. He slept in those clothes. And his hair is still messy and he hasn’t shaved and…
“Who’s at the door?” my dad called.
“Chay,” I hollered over my shoulder, my voice a little breathier than usual.
“Is he having breakfast with us?”
Turning to Chay, I licked my lips and tried to smooth a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Um, do you want to have breakfast with us? We have breakfast as a family every Saturday.”
Chay looked at the ground and shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to crash your cereal party.”
I laughed. “He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t mean for you to stay.”
He looked at me through his impossibly long, black lashes. “And you?”
“I always want you,” I whispered. “Always.”
His lips twitched and he gazed into my eyes. “Then I’d love to have breakfast with you, Milayna.”
Geez, he looks way too good for this early in the morning.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” I started to close the door and then remembered he was still standing on the porch. Grinning, I opened it and rolled my eyes. “Come in.”
I started toward the stairs when he caught my hand, “Don’t get dressed. I’d feel awkward sitting at your table in my pajamas.”
“I won’t. I just gotta, you know… ” I made brushing motions in front of my mouth. “Teeth. Dragon breath and all.” I ran upstairs to my bathroom, brushed my teeth, splashed water on my face, and ran wet fingers through my ratted hair, leaving it down like he liked. I walked to the stairs and smiled when I heard him and my dad talking in the kitchen. I wasn’t the only one who liked him.
“Milayna?” my mom called quietly from her bedroom down the hall. I turned. “Your guy’s here?” She tilted her head toward the stairs, a gleam in her eye.
“Yeah.” I couldn’t help the smile that stretched across my face.
She smiled back and winked. “I guess we’d better get breakfast going.”
“Oh, it’s my week to cook.” I rolled my lip between my teeth.
“I’ll do it. You two go do whatever it is people do this early in the morning.” She stifled a large yawn.
“No, that’s okay. I want to.” I hurried downstairs.
“Hey.” Chay held his hand out to me.
“Hey.” I slid my hand in his and he pulled me to him, kissing my temple. His lips were soft and warm, and I had to concentrate on what I was going to say. “Uh, I forgot this is my week to cook, so we can talk in here.” I pulled him behind me to the kitchen.
“Wherever is great. I could help.”
I turned to him. “You want to?”
“Sure, what are we cooking?” Looking around the kitchen, he picked up an egg-shaped timer. He turned it over in his hands like he’d never seen one before.
“Well, what do you like?”
“You.”
I bit the corner of my bottom lip to hold back my smile. I lost the war—I looked up at him and smiled. “I like you too.” I bumped my hip into his. “But, what would you like for breakfast?”
“I like anything.”
“Banana pancakes?”
“You know how to make banana pancakes? I knew I was fallin’ for you for a reason.”
I think my heart just stopped. He just said that out loud with my dad in the room!
I cleared my throat. “Ah, well, you haven’t tasted them yet.”
Chay and I cooked breakfast together. Banana pancakes and fruit with fresh-squeezed orange juice. He was in charge of the fruit and orange juice. He didn’t know the first thing about cooking, so I made the pancakes.
By the end of breakfast, he’d sufficiently charmed my parents into thinking he’d hung the moon. When he asked if he could borrow me for the day, they didn’t hesitate.
“Sure,” my mom said. “Just have her back by tomorrow morning.”
Chay stopped with his glass of orange juice halfway to his mouth and stared at my mom with a dumbfounded look. I snorted a laugh and nearly choked on a piece of cantaloupe.
My mom chuckled. “Midnight,” she clarified.
Chay sat his glass down and let out a big breath. “Right. Of course.” He nodded. “I’ll pick you up in an hour, Milayna?” At my nod, Chay rinsed his plate at the sink before walking toward the door. “Thank you for breakfast, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson.”
“Anytime. See ya, Chay,” my dad said, waving over his shoulder when Chay walked by.
“See ya, Ben.”
“Later, dude,” Ben said around a mouthful of pancake and fist bumped Chay.
***
Exactly an hour later, his yellow Camaro pulled in the driveway. He walked to the porch; I opened the door before he rang the bell.
“I would’ve come out if you’d honked,” I said.