Page 44 of All Her Broken Pieces

“Morning. I was excited to play with this beauty again. I made you something new.”

“Did you take a shower in my bathroom?” I ask. When had he been in my room? Maybe I did get more sleep than I thought. Walking into the kitchen, I set my phone on the island and lean back against the counter as sports highlights fill the muted TV screen.

“That is the only place to shower in your apartment.” He looks concerned. “I didn’t wake you, did I? You looked zonked when I snuck in.”

“It’s fine. Just put some clothes on. Didn’t you do laundry recently?” My tone comes out more annoyed than I intend, but the sight of him nearly naked is a little more than I can take this early in the morning.Be strong, Bridget.

He saunters to his overnight bag and grabs a pair of athletic shorts, dropping the towel and revealing his entire backside as he pulls the shorts up his hips. Fuck, I forgot about his rugby thighs and perfect ass. Clearing my throat, I try to pull myself together. “You could’ve done that in the bathroom,” I huff as he crosses to the laundry closet off the kitchen and tosses the towel into the washing machine.

“Do you normally check out yourfriends’asses?” he shoots back.

Touché.I scrub a hand down my face, hoping to hide the heat I feel in my cheeks as I move around the island.

“Let me know what you think about this.” He hands me an espresso mug.

Bringing the mug to my mouth I savor the rich aroma before taking a sip. My taste buds explode the second the coffee touches my tongue. “Is this an Americano? It’s better than the one you made yesterday, if that’s even possible.”

He smiles. “It’s a doppio espresso. It’s basically a double espresso. Americanos are diluted with water. A doppio has a stronger, richer flavor.”

Damn, he sounds sexy when he speaks in Italian. “Your Italian accent’s not too bad,” I say. “Did you pick up a lot of Italian when you lived in Italy?”

“A little. And trust me, my accent is shit. If you hear a native speaker, you’ll realize I sound like a cheap knockoff.”

“Why does your espresso taste better than mine?” I breathe in the earthy aroma.

“I did go to culinary school, you know,” he teases, leaning back against the island as I pull up a stool next to him. “But it’s probably the espresso powder I used. The restaurant imports it.”

“Do you know how to say anything else in Italian?” I try not to blush, but I can feel the heat seeping into my cheeks.

“You like when I speak Italian, eh?” He leans over, placing one hand behind my neck while cupping my cheek with the other. “Voglio che siamo più che amici.”

The breath whooshes from my lungs as I pant for air. My kitchen suddenly feels one hundred degrees hotter. “What did you say?” I ask, my voice sounding breathier than normal before my brain overrides my libido. “Did you just mention my puking?”

He chuckles softly, his lips moving millimeters from my forehead. “No. It means that… I’m… uh… I’m glad we are friends.” His soft breaths warm my skin before he presses his lips to my forehead, hovering longer than he should.

“Oh,” I breathe out as his green eyes lock on mine. I couldn’t care less what it means as he slowly inches forward and pulls our faces closer.

I can’t deny this energy I feel any longer. It crackles between us as our chests heave, and we pant warm breaths against each other’s mouths. I can smell the hint of his coffee on his breath, the sickly-sweet aroma surprisingly enticing.

“Voglio di più,” he pleads against my mouth. Just as I feel the brushing of his lips over mine, my phone buzzes on the counter, breaking our bubble and sending me back to reality.

He reaches across the island to grab it, handing it to me. As several more texts come through, I look at the screen and see that it’s Becka.

Becka

It’s beautiful here

[picture of sand and clear blue water]

I miss you

Have you seen Ethan again?

I blow out a frustrated breath. I’m not sure what I want from Ethan, and I’m not ready to explain my feelings to Becka yet. And I’ll have to come clean about my surgery if I want her to take over for Ethan. But despite my threat to replace him with Becka, I’m not sure if she could drop everything to come help me so quickly, especially once she finds out I hid this from her.

Not ready to deal with all of that, I set my phone face down on the counter.

“Bad news?” he questions with a concerned look still standing next to my stool, leaning back against the island as he sips his coffee.

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