Page 7 of Just a Number

“Bacon, eggs, hash brown, toast.”

“Sounds good.” I try not to let the disappointment filter through in my voice.

“Why don’t you finish getting dressed and it’ll be ready soon,” she says, still not looking at me. I have an urge to take a step closer and push her flush against the worktop. I’d love to watch the blush intensify, but deep down, I know that’s not appropriate. She’s Zack’s mum, for fuck's sake. I need to rein myself in.

“Sure thing.”

Chapter three

Mel

Alex has got me flustered. I couldn’t hold in my squeak of surprise this morning when I came downstairs and found him sprawled on the couch, wearing just a tight pair of black boxer shorts that left very little to the imagination.

I’m mad at myself that I couldn’t contain my shock at finding him there dressed like he was and my noise woke him. Once I’d calmed down, I would have been quite happy to stand there for a while, while he slept, admiring his body and the tattoos on his chest, arms and even on his thighs. He’s a fucking masterpiece.

I shouldn’t be looking.

And then, he followed me into the kitchen, with his jeans barely done up, and for a moment I had wanted to devour him.Jeez, I clearly need to get laid.This guy is my son’s friend and I’m thinking about climbing him like a tree.

When he reached out to brush my hair away from my face, I wanted to lean in towards his touch and it scared the bejeezusout of me. So I leapt back and tried to make space. Thank goodness he’s gone to put more clothes on. That should help.

I glance down and realise that I, too, should probably put something else on. I grimace at my nipples, standing to attention.Dammit.I look around and see one of Zack’s hoodies draped over the back of a bar stool.That’ll do.I pull it over my head and then take a big gulp of my coffee to try and centre myself.It’s fine. You just need to go and find a man.I really hope my pep talk helps.

Once my coffee is half drunk, I’m a bit calmer and pull the ingredients out to make breakfast. Alex seemed keen and the smell of bacon frying is likely to wake Zack up. Even with his room at the other end of the hall upstairs, he seems to miraculously sense when there’s bacon cooking.

Alex reappears with his t-shirt covering his ripped chest and tattoos. I try my best to squash my disappointment. I’d love to look at them in more detail.Dammit, that pep talk didn’t help at all.

“Where do you keep your glass recycling?” He makes his way over, adding more empty bottles to the ones he’d already stacked next to the sink last night.

“There’s a box in the garage. You can go through the back door and across the path. It’s probably unlocked, but take the key from the back door just in case.” He gathers the glass in his arms, but there’s too much. I open the cupboard under the sink and pull out a bucket, which I hold out to him.

“This might make it easier.” He gives me a grateful smile, stacking them in the bucket before heading to the back door. He’s back before I know it, and this time, gathers up the pizza boxes.

“I saw the bin by the garage. I’ll get rid of these for you too.”

“Thanks, Alex. How do you like your eggs?”

“However they come.” He smiles.

“Fried okay? That’s Zack’s favourite.”

“All good with me. Sunny side up, please.”

When he comes back, he sits quietly at the breakfast counter, drinking his coffee and scrolling on his phone. I’m thankful that I have the cooking to focus on and that I’m not facing him. More than once, I am sure I feel his gaze on my behind. It’s like a gentle tingle on my skin, but I brush it off, assuming I’m imagining it.As if he’d be interested in me.

It’s not long before I’m serving up the breakfasts onto the plates I’ve had warming in the oven. There’s still no sign of Zack, so I shoot him a quick text to see if he’s awake. A thumbs up comes back, so I let him know breakfast is ready and pop his plate in the warmed oven so it doesn’t go cold.

The breakfast bar is set up with three stools side by side. I place Alex’s plate and cutlery in front of him. And then hesitate, trying to work out where I should sit. It seems strange not to sit in the next seat along but I should save that for Zack. I walk around the counter, placing my plate at the far end before sitting.

“No need to wait. Just dig in.”

“Thanks.” We’re both quiet as we tuck into our food and a sense of relief washes over me at the tread of Zack’s footsteps on the stairs. I look round to see him entering the kitchen, wearing only a pair of joggers.

“Why’s it so hot? It’s tropical in here.” He lopes over to the thermostat.

“I already turned it down. I’d set it too high. Your breakfast is in the oven.”

“Thanks, Mum.” He redirects to the fridge, pulls out the milk and I watch in amusement as he opens the lid and raises the bottle to his lips. He must sense my gaze because our eyes meet and a sheepish look crosses his face, then he grimaces before grabbing a glass and filling it almost to the brim. He places itdown on the counter before he spins back to take the hot plate from the oven without oven gloves, so the plate is placed heavily on the counter in a hurry. As he comes around, he claps Alex on the back before sitting between us.

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