When his hand covered mine, I froze, but his breath was even. He’d still been asleep, and I closed my eyes, listening to him breathe and found my own slumber.
Only now was now, and I didn’t know if it’d be best to sneak out the front door since it was right next to Saint’s bedroom.
I could hear him moving around out there, and my pulse raced on the extreme speed. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I sat up and put my feet to the ground while pulling the blanket off me. Saint had been smart to get up early. His morning chub would have gone down, but mine was tenting my boxers as if ready for action. I stood, stretched again, and then paced the room, waiting and willing my cock to go down. I didn’t need a piss, thank fuck, since it was hard to with a chubby. I thought of everything I could to shrink that fucker, but it was like it knew Saint was in the other room and wanted to show off for him.
Fuck it.
I had to get out of here.
I grabbed my clothes and dressed quickly in case Saint thought of coming back to the room. I snuck to the closed door and opened it a little. He was in the kitchen. From where his door was situated, I could see him clearly at the stove, only wearing jeans. His hips swayed to the gentle music playing in the background.
Shit, fuck, shit. He was cooking. Obviously making us breakfast. Could I really be a dick and leave? I closed the door and dropped my forehead to it. I couldn’t fucking leave. Not after he’d been… damn sweet and everything the previous day. He took me to the movies for fuck’s sake, plus a bar, and back to his place where we didn’t get off but did something I’d never done with anyone else. We’d cuddled. We’d slept together.
It’d been nice.
Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair and then over my face before opening the door. Saint hearing it, turned. His smile was fucking bright.
“Mornin’,” he called.
“Hey,” I replied with a chin lift.
“Get your ass to the table. Breakfast is ready.” He faced me again with two plates in hand and then took in how I was fully dressed. He snorted. “Were you gonna make a run for it?”
I scoffed and ended up choking. “What? No. I’m just, you know, ready for the day.” I sat, and Saint put a plate full of fucking bacon, eggs, and toast in front of me. He set his plate down and took the chair next to mine. But before he plonked his ass down, his hand gripped the top of my hair, and he gently tugged my head back to have my eyes.
He smiled. “Mornin’ again,” he said. I didn’t get to reply because his lips brushed against mine quickly, and I was too stunned to do or say anything as he sat in the chair, still smiling, but it’d turned smug.
What was that?
“Saint—”
He shook his head. “Kylo, it’s Zion in here. Zion whenever we’re alone.”
I widened my eyes. “Will we be alone a lot?” was what came to mind and what just popped out of my damn mouth.
He chuckled. “If I have anythin’ to do with it, yeah.”
Right… okay…. Fuck.
“I don’t get—”
His hand landed on mine, and I stopped talking to look down at it. “Let’s just eat and we’ll talk about it after. Instead, tell me what shit you like to do in your spare time.”
He wanted to know what I did in my spare time.
He seemed like he wanted to know me. I knew I was blocking shit between us because I didn’t want it to register in my heart, but I was pretty sure Saint—Zion—was trying to be closer to me. In a way where we’d only be with each other. At least, I thought he was.
I wanted to hope, but until we had more time together, until this was a sure thing, I wouldn’t. Even when my heart felt like tiny gorillas were beating at my heart every time he talked or looked my way.
I pushed more shit back in my mind and focused on the food in front of me while I told him about building up an old Harley I had stored in Boom’s shed. He listened to everything, adding in his own questions.
Then I admitted another thing I liked to do that no one really knew. “I read sometimes