Page 113 of Brittle Heart

She turns, looking up at me with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. I feel like I need to eat something, or I’ll get sick again, and I wanted to make us breakfast. Was that too much?”

I huff a laugh and place the eggs on the counter, walking around to sit on a barstool at the kitchen island. “Please, I need something to eat too. I think there’s some bacon of Xander’s in there.”

I don’t usually eat bacon, but I need something greasy.

I watch as she makes eggs and bacon, appreciating how she seems comfortable in our kitchen, like she belongs here.

She places a plate in front of me, saying, “Buon appetito,” before turning and eating hers while facing away from me.

“Move your cute ass over here and sit,” I tell her.

She turns, hesitating for a moment, but comes over, struggling to sit next to me on the high stool. Slowly, she starts eating while I inhale my plate of food. “God, that’s good, thank you.” She just nods, and I ask, “How are you feeling?”

She chews before answering. “Better, but I still feel like laying around doing nothing.”

“Oh, that can be arranged,” I say, taking our plates to the sink before reaching out to hold her hand and leading her to our big couch.

I lay down on my back, opening my arms for her. “Come here.”

She comes easily, resting her head against my shoulder and snuggling into my side. Her arm drapes over my chest, and her thigh rests over my hips, hugging me like a little koala bear.

I place my hand on her thigh, stroking her gently over Josh’s sleep pants.

“Mmm… that’s nice,” she whispers, her voice and her thigh against me making me hard.

Who would have thought a few vodka shots could turn her into a cuddly kitty?

I pull her even closer, kissing her head, taking in the scent of Josh’s cinnamon shampoo. “I could do this for hours. You know what, let’s do just that,” I say, my lips lingering against her forehead.

After a while of me stroking her, she chuckles. “You know, ever since I sawClueless,I always wanted to have a gay best friend.”

I freeze, looking down at her, which prompts her to lift her head.

“What?” she asks, puzzled. “You’re the one insisting that you’re my best friend,” she mumbles, blushing slightly.

I chuckle softly. “I am your best friend, but I’m not gay, kitten.”

Her eyes widen. “I’m sorry,” she quickly apologizes.

“For what?” I ask, resuming my gentle stroking.

“For assuming,” she whispers.

“It’s okay. I mean, I’m very much not straight either.” I snicker.

She pulls her thigh away from me, and it brushes against my boner, making her eyes lock with mine. “See?” I whisper. “Not gay.”

“Then this is very much inappropriate,” she says, moving to get up.

“Shut up, kitten, and come back here,” I insist, reaching out to pull her back down to me. “You just pushed your not-so-small tits nearly in my face. Of course, I got a boner. It’s a natural reaction. Don’t overthink shit. We just made plans to cuddle all day long, and I am very much determined to do just that.”

She relaxes back against me but doesn’t hold me like before. So I reach over to get her thigh back over me. “I need you right here,” I whisper to her.

She looks up at me, searching my eyes before her gaze lands on my lips.

Fuck, I would still be the second guy she ever kissed, right?

“Thank you for yesterday,” she says, her voice soft. “I don’t think I told you that. But it meant a lot to me that you came for me. Again.”

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