Page 28 of His Sunshine Baby

“Sorry, I just needed some fresh air. You should have stayed inside, Danny.”

“I was worried, I saw you leave.”

“I’m fine, babe.”

He doesn’t really trust me, making his suspicious face. So I decide to turn my attention to the boy next to him.

“Hi, I’m Elena.”

“Boyan. Nice to meet you.”

“Boyan?” I repeat.

“Yeah, but you can call me Bobo.”

Eventually, Daniel convinced me to have fun. Let it all go, dance until my feet were sore, and let my thoughts drown in a glass of Margarita. Several of them… Enough to explain this morning’s mild headache.

I massage my neck, and get up from my bed, grabbing my kimono. It’s a fancy and hot pink, but I love the embroidered flowers and the feel of silk on my bare skin. Danny gave it to me for Christmas last year, and I always wear it on the weekends, especially on Sundays. I hear some rummaging in the kitchen. What is he doing? I exit my bedroom and walk barefoot to our kitchen.

To my surprise, it’s not Daniel who’s being nosy, but a big, dark guy standing in the middle of the room. Oh my gosh, I didn’t think his man slept here! I came home early and didn’t even hear them come back last night. He spots me, standing like an idiot at the doorway, and smiles.

“Good morning, Elena.”

“Ahem, morning.”

It would probably be a bit awkward if he didn’t have a warm smile. Instead, he is acting natural, walking around in our kitchen as if he’d been here before. I walk up to the kitchen counter and sit on a stool, a bit amused. There are a bunch of new ingredients on our kitchen counter. Did he buy groceries?

“I bought coffee. I didn’t know what you guys drank, so I got several.”

Really? I take a look at the paper cups. He brought four of them: macchiato, black, latte, and tea. Gosh, we have a coffee maker! So cute though. I grab the macchiato.

“He likes his coffee as dark as possible,” I tell him with a smile.

Big boy nods.

“Noted.”

I look at him cooking with all those ingredients. I’m not a good cook, so I’m just impressed to see him doing this. There are eggs, milk, sugar. Is he making a cake? I want to ask, but I suddenly realize. What was his name again? Boyan? Oh right, he said to call him Bobo! Even his name is easy and simple to remember. I lean over the counter to take a peek at whatever is on the stove.

“What are you cooking?”

“Crepes. I don’t cook much but this recipe is easy. My nieces love it.”

“You have nieces?” I ask, interested.

He nods with a smile, still focused on his pan.

“Yes, twins. They are my brother’s kids and are four years old.”

He seems so genuinely happy while talking about those children, my heart melts. Damn, he cooks breakfast for us, loves kids, is super nice, polite, and he’s even good-looking! Danny, you better hold on to this one!

“You have other roommates?”

I take a sip of coffee and answer him, a bit surprised by the question.

“No, just Danny. We started renting this place about two years ago now. Daniel wanted a place quieter than his parent’s house and I, well, let’s just say it was at a time when I needed a fresh start.”

He nods and grabs the butter. I appreciate that he doesn’t ask more than that. I wouldn’t want someone to get curious about my complicated past.

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