We settle in, food spread out in front of us, Little G curled up at our feet. The first bite of curry has me closing my eyes in bliss, and judging by the little moan Chance lets out, he’s having the same experience. We eat in comfortable silence, breaking only to exchange bites of food or comment on the movie.
About ten minutes in, Chance shifts forward, eyes locked on the screen. “Damn,” he says, pointing his fork toward the lead actor. “This guy’shot.”
I glance over, “That’s Matthew Modine. Do you recognize him?”
Chance tilts his head. “No. Should I?”
“That’sPapafromStranger Things.”
Chance’s eyes bug out comically. “Holyshit, no way! Damn, he wassexy.”
I chuckle. “Right? See? You’re already appreciating this cinematic masterpiece.”
He laughs, shaking his head as he takes another bite of food. “Alright,fine. Maybe you have a point.”
And just like that, I had commented, out loud, that a guy was hot… and nothing bad happened. I’m breathing easier by the day, mostly thanks to the king of hot guys—and he’s going to bemine.
When our plates are empty, we both lean back against the couch, rubbing our bellies, content and full. Chance nudges my knee with his. “Okay, I’ll admit it. Pretty solid movie choice, Pacini.”
“Told you,” I say smugly, reaching for the remote to start the next movie.
Then, without even thinking, I let my body lean over, curling up against Chance’s side, my head resting on his shoulder.
Chance shifts slightly, adjusting so I fit even more perfectly against him. His arm drapes casually over my back, his fingers grazing my shoulder, and he keeps watching the movie like this is justa normal nightfor us.
And maybe it is now.
I smile to myself, eyes flicking to the TV but not really watching.
Because all I can think about is tomorrow.
His birthday.
Tomorrow is our night.
If he so much as makes a move, if he tries to kiss me…
I’m going to do it.
I may even encourage it.
It’s his birthday after all.
The morning sun peeks through the blinds, splashing rays of warmth across the sheets. But these are not the same blinds I’ve been waking up next to on the couch. No, these are different blinds entirely.
I shift slightly, blinking awake. Chance's arms are wrapped around me; his muscled body molded to mine. I bite my lip, suppressing the cheesy grin threatening to take over my face.
I groan slightly when I feel the same thing I’ve woken up to every morning since we’ve gotten back: his hard length pressing against my ass.
I stifle a laugh as I carefully move his hand and slide out of bed.Soon, sexy man, soon.
I glance down at my own morning predicament and shake my head.Yeah, yeah, soon for you too.
Padding into the kitchen, I get to work on breakfast. Bacon sizzles in the pan while I crack eggs into a bowl and whisk them, then measure flour for the chocolate chip pancakes—Chance's favorite.
The bedroom door creaks open, and I hear the shuffling of bare feet down the hall. I look up just as Chance steps into the kitchen, shirtless, his satin sleep pants slung wickedly low.
I'll never get used to the sight of him.