Page 9 of Finding Alexei
“Morning,” I say, my voice still raspy from sleep.
“Hi. Good morning,” she chirps.
“You made breakfast?”
“There’s bacon and coffee, and toast too. I figured being an athlete, you have a healthy appetite. And then I saw all the ingredients in your fridge. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. This is great.”
I help myself to a mug and fill it with coffee. I usually don’t bother making coffee at home, opting to pick some up on the way out instead. It’s a rare treat to enjoy a morning like this at home.
“Where’s Ella?” I ask.
“She woke up early, just before six. She’s already napping again.”
I nod, seeing that it’s already eight. “I need to be at practice in an hour.”
“I have to work later too. Will you drop us off on your way?”
“Uh . . . yeah, of course.”
I don’t like the thought of them going back to her apartment, especially since it doesn’t have heat, but I hope to have that fixed shortly. I emailed my manager last night, gave him Ryleigh’s address, and asked him to pay whatever she owed to the electric company so the heat could be turned back on.
I help myself to a plate piled with perfectly crisp bacon, eggs, and toast, then take a seat at the breakfast bar. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
Ryleigh nods and takes a plate for herself. “Thank you. For everything. I mean, you could have just kept walking last night.”
“I know, but that’s not me.” I run a hand through my hair.
“Why didn’t you?”
Isn’t that the million-dollar question. “The truth?” I say after swallowing a bite of bacon.
She nods, and brings a forkful of eggs to her lips.
“It’s probably going to sound cheesy, but it seemed like you needed help. That guy seemed like a real fucking creep. Excuse my language, and my mom raised me better than to just walk by a woman in need.”
A smile tugs up one side of her mouth. “You’re quite the gentleman.”
“Something like that.” I don’t want her to get the wrong idea about me. On the outside, I’m as gentlemanly as they come. But on the inside, I’m pretty much like every other red-blooded male. I like casual sex—a lot of it, most definitely watch too much porn, and I curse like a sailor when I’m with my boys. Minor details that will stay under lock and key because somehow I like her thinking that I’m just a gentleman.
“These are perfect, by the way.” I take another bite of eggs. I swear they’re the best eggs I’ve had in ages.
Ryleigh smiles as she watches me eat. “Glad you’re enjoying them.”
I want to hold her blue eyes captive, but don’t want to unsettle her.
Ella lets out a cry from the bedroom, and Ryleigh hops down from the stool beside me.
I place my hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “Let me. You eat.” I hate to think about the idea that this might be her only meal today, but it very well could be.
Ella is lying on her back, her tiny arms and legs flailing as she lets out frustrated cries. “Come here, little princess,” I murmur softly as I lift her from the bedding.
I return to the kitchen and finish the rest of breakfast holding my fork in one hand and a soothed baby in the other.
Ryleigh shoots me curious glances whenever she thinks I’m not looking, and I’m not sure what to make of her expressions. I don’t want her to think I’m overstepping some invisible “the help is nice now, but what happens tomorrow to Ella and me” line. But I do want Ryleigh to realize that there are good people in this world. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she’s also one of the good people. She could have just as easily taken Ella to child protective services when her roommate abandoned her baby . . . but she didn’t.
My heart beats over time when our hands brush as she collects our plates. I’m not nervous, but I’m really, really aware of her. Her honey hair is starting to slip from her bun and for some strange reason I want to run my fingers through it.
After we clean up from breakfast, we pack up her and Ella’s things and load them into my car. I have just enough time to drop them off at home and make it to the training facility. We ride in comfortable silence to her place. I linger at her front door as she unlocks it. I may have just met Ryleigh yesterday—this woman who stirs something inside me—but some part of me isn’t ready to walk away.
“Thanks again, Alexei. I don’t know how I could repay you for . . .”
I hold up one hand, stopping her. I don’t want her to repay me. I meant what I’d said when I told her no strings. “It was really no trouble. If anything, I need to repay you for making those eggs this morning.”
