Page 368 of Breaking the Rules

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"You sound so nerdy now."

"How?"

"That's what Yoda says."

"You barely likeStar Wars."

"Didn't say you got it from me."

"Shut up and make more batter."

"Yes, Mistress."

I fight my chuckle. God, it's good to see him. And hear his voice. And smell his shampoo.

I have to drag myself to the bathroom.

And, yeah, okay, I do make a point of fixing my hair, applying concealer and lipstick, changing into a cute dress.

If he's here to fix us, I want to remember it like this.

If he's here to end us, I want to make him feel the loss.

Deep breath.

Steady exhale.

I step into the main room.

His eyes fix on me.

Fill with appreciation.

Need. Affection. Love.

God, there's so much in those gorgeous blue eyes.

I want all of it.

I want to shoulder his pain.

To share mine.

To hold him up when he needs that.

And lean on him when I need that.

He's here, playing my favorite band and fixing my coffee and hopelessly trying to make pancakes.

God, I hope he figures his shit out better than he makes pancakes.

"You look gorgeous." His voice is soft. Sweet. Loving.

God, I need that. All of it. "Thank you." I step into the kitchen. Focus on our task.

Oil. Burner. Batter. Spatula.

He stays close as I fix a round of pancakes.

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