Page 158 of What We Break
"Adults remember to buy eggs when they're at the store."
"Hey, that wasn't my fault. Someone started kissing me in the dairy aisle."
Heat creeps up my neck. I did do that. I couldn't help it—he was standing there all rumpled and earnest, reading the protein content on yogurt cups like it mattered, and I just had to kiss him.
"You kissed me back."
"Because my girlfriend was being irresistible near the yogurt." He's grinning now, and I can tell he's remembering it too. "Not my fault we both forgot about eggs."
"We got everything else," I point out.
"Everything except the one ingredient we actually needed."
"Details."
I'm backed against the kitchen counter now. Nowhere left to go. Reid's coming at me with that look, the one that says he's getting my French toast whether I like it or not.
"Last chance," he says. "Share nicely, or I'll have to take drastic measures."
"Oh. No. I am so terrified."
He growls, leaning down to nip at my neck, just below my ear. I gasp, and the plate nearly slips out of my hands. His lips are warm, and his breath hits my skin and everything in me goes quiet.
"That's not fair," I manage.
"All's fair in love and breakfast food." His mouth moves to that spot on my collarbone. The one he found two weeks ago. The one that turns me into a completely useless human being. I shiver, and my free hand lands on his shoulder because I need something solid or I'm going to slide right off this counter.
"Reid..." It comes out a mix of a gasp and a moan.
He pulls back just enough to look at me. His eyes are darker now. "Still not sharing?"
I set the plate on the counter behind me. I don't even think about it. My hands need to be on him.
His hands find my waist immediately, pulling me in. He's warm and solid and he smells like sleep and maple syrup, and I want to drag him back to bed and forget breakfast exists.
"Victory," he murmurs, but he doesn't reach for the French toast. He's too busy pressing kisses along my jaw. "You're beautiful when you laugh like that."
"You're terrible."
"But you love me anyway."
Yeah. I really do. "I must be crazy."
He leans down and kisses me, soft and sweet. When we break apart, we both have big dumb smiles on our faces. Look at us, two sappy, totally in love.
"So about that French toast..." he says hopefully.
I cut off a piece of the corner—the best piece, with all the syrup—and hold it out to him on my fork. "Here, you big baby."
Reid opens his mouth and lets me feed it to him, making a sound of satisfaction that's borderline indecent.
"Happy now?"
"Mmm. So happy." His arms are still around me, I'm still pressed between him and the counter, and I couldn't be happier. "Thank you for sharing."
"You didn't leave me much choice."
His hands are warm on my waist, and I'm already thinking about dragging him back to bed. We have nowhere to be. Nothing to do. Just a lazy Saturday stretching out ahead of us, full of possibilities and?—
