God, both sounded so good right now.
At the thought of my favorite breakfast, my stomach growled again. Louder this time.
My arms clamped around my stomach. I didn’t even know if Milo had any of the ingredients I’d need for my breakfast, but since I wasn’t usually one to starve myself just to get out of an awkward situation, I sucked it up.
I was an adult. If Milo suddenly had a problem with me, then we were both old enough to communicate and find a solution.
With my head held high, I opened my bedroom door and walked out to get my ass into the kitchen.
He stood there in loose, white pants, a white tank top, and an open, beige short dress shirt that he threw on to make his look seem more stylish, or so I assumed. It was quite confusing seeing him in lighter colors.
The only times I’d seen Milo wear anything but a black suit was at Flora’s wedding when she made him wear red. He and I were her only bridesmaid and bridesman, and my sister wanted us to wear red. I wanted to hate her for it because red might’ve been her color, but it wasn’t mine at all.
I thought I looked like a clown. But Milo did compliment me that day.
“Good morning,” Milo said and set a bowl on the kitchen table. “It’s for you. I figured you’d be famished after last night.”
I looked at the bowl and back at Milo. Confused, I walked over to the kitchen table and checked out whatever was inside of that bowl.
I’d appreciate the effort if he made me cereal, but I wouldn’t have eaten it. Cereals made me throw up, especially in the morning.
To my surprise, it was a breakfast bowl. It looked like a granola and yogurt bowl with a bunch of fruits neatly placed on top of the yogurt.
It could’ve been a coincidence, but how the freak did he know that I only ate some kind of breakfast bowl in the morning?
Though I’d spent some time in his apartment before, he was never home when I woke up. All last week, Milo was gone each morning as well. We’d never eaten breakfast together before.
“Thank you,” I said as I took a seat to eat. I wasn’t going to say no to a perfect-looking breakfast bowl, especially after a week of eating boring bread for breakfast.
Milo joined me a moment later, having a bowl for himself.
So it was a coincidence.
Before I got to taste my food, my eyes lingered on his face. He was so handsome, I could barely wrap my head around it.
His brown irises almost melted into his pupils. His lips looked so soft; they weren’t the biggest lips I’d ever seen on a man before, but they definitely had some volume. His jaw was carved out so sharply, that I occasionally thought his jawbone was going to cut through his skin.
And his stubble…
He looked so good with the stupid stubble. How dare he? I could’ve gotten used to them, but Milo was more the clean-shaven type of guy.
That reminded me. “You didn’t shave,” I said, though it was supposed to stay in my head and not come out of my mouth.
His eyes laid on mine before he nodded softly. “You asked me not to.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think…” I shrugged, then stuffed my mouth with some yogurt and fruit so I didn’t have to continue my sentence.
It must’ve been one of the best breakfast bowls I’ve ever had, and I used to think of myself as someone who had skills when it came to a pretty and tasty breakfast. I mean, yes, all the ingredients were bought and just put together into one bowl, so very obviously, I just didn’t buy the correct fruits and yogurts.
Part of me hated Milo for topping me in the one thing I was good at. Actually, no, I was good at way more things than just breakfast bowls, thank you very much.
I was a pretty great designer, too.
This reminded me of my stupid, not-thought-through words from last night. When I told Milo that he had a great ass and that I’d been looking for guys with his ass for my designs. Which triggered a whole different memory.
Quickly, I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment as images of me naked in my bedroom with Milo standing in front of me came flooding in to haunt me. Followed by not a single moment that I could say he even bothered to look at me.
I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.