Page 23 of Panther's Magpie
“Morning,” he rasps.
His voice makes my skin tingle.
Has it really been that long since I’ve had sex that a simple good morning turns me on now? Or is it the way he so fiercely took care of me last night?
I think I’m emotionally confused. I don’t know how to handle all this stress I’ve been under.
Yeah, that’s got to be it.
“Morning. What are you doing here?” I ask as I approach.
He raises a brow. “Last I checked, this was my place.”
“Sorry,” I say quietly.
“How’s the hand?”
“Good. It doesn’t hurt.”
“Need help putting on a new bandage?”
I shake my head. “No, thank you. I put one on after my shower.”
I don’t know why it surprises me that he offered to help with a bandage, but it does. I figured last night was just a one-off. Ithought that maybe he felt a little guilty that I got hurt on his watch, even though it wasn’t his fault at all.
It was a risk I knowingly took, and I don’t regret it.
“You hungry?” he asks.
“A little.”
“I grabbed some food from the diner. I hope you don’t have any allergies or anything.”
“I don’t, and I’m not picky. Thank you,” I say softly as I grab the to-go container.
I open it up and see that he got me some pancakes, hash browns, and sausage.
Reluctantly I sit down next to him and begin to eat. We eat in silence together for a few minutes, and while it should feel awkward, it doesn’t. For some reason, I feel at ease around him, which is kind of a first.
“How is it?” he asks.
“Delicious. I love breakfast food.” I swallow after taking another bite. “Have you heard anything?”
He shakes his head. “No, and it fucking kills me.”
“Me too.”
“I hope you aren’t missing too many classes,” he says, making me wince.
“I actually withdrew Aspen and myself from school yesterday. I thought it was for the best until all of this settles down.”
Panther freezes and very slowly turns toward me. “You did?”
“Yeah. It was pretty easy, actually. Aspen has used the same password for everything since we were kids.”
“Huh.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin and then tosses it into his to-go container.
“You off to work? Or do you work?” I stumble, feeling embarrassed.
