Page 104 of Major Penalty

“No more secrets,” she whispers.

I look at her little finger, then back at her. Then hook my pinkie with hers.

“No more secrets,” I murmur, tugging her hand toward me. And then kiss her pinkie, sealing the vow.

I’ve been awake for an hour, maybe longer. I haven’t kept track of time, the view being more important.

Irene is still asleep. Her hair is spread across the satin pillow, one hand tucked under her cheek, lips parted, and her body bare and curled under the sheets.

I could watch her like this forever.

I want this. Every morning. Every night. Until the end of fucking time.

I then lean in and press the softest kiss to the corner of her lips. She stirs a little, but doesn’t wake.

I glance at the armchair where I neatly folded the clothes I got from Avery this morning. Rowan’s little sister didn’t ask questions; she just rolled her eyes and handed me a small stack of clothes with a smile. There’s a pair of leggings, a hoodie, and a clean sports bra.

Breakfast is downstairs: avocado toast, waffles, and coffee. I made the eggs twice to make sure I got them right.

I haven’t done that for anyone.

Ever.

I sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake her as the bed dips, but her lashes flutter open anyway.

“Hi,” she whispers, her voice hoarse with sleep.

“Good morning.” I can’t help the grin on my face, all teeth. I haven’t smiled like this in a long time. “You're gorgeous when you sleep.”

“Did you watch me sleep?” She smiles back, still blinking at me.

“Mhm.” I nod.

“You creep,” she laughs, stretching beneath the sheets.

God, she’s beautiful. Even wrecked, sleepy, and puffy-eyed. I lean in to kiss her, and she hums into it.

I pull back and motion toward the chair.

“I got some clothes from Rowan’s sister.”

Her eyes widen at the pile of clothes on the chair.

“Your other stuff…didn’t survive last night.”

She laughs again, and fuck if it isn’t the best sound I’ve ever heard.

“And I made breakfast,” I add. “I hope you like avocado toast and waffles.”

“I get both?” She giggles and sits up.

“My girl gets whatever she wants.”

And I don’t even realize I’ve said it until it’s out of my mouth.

She goes still, and golden-brown eyes lock on me like she’s trying to figure out if she heard me right.

“Your girl?” she repeats quietly.

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