Page 102 of Next Time We'll Fall

“It’s a new start, but it’s not like we’re not going to see each other. She spends most of her time with Luke, and I spend so much time here. It doesn’t make sense, paying rent for that place. I’ll just pay rent here.”

“I don’t pay rent. I own my place. So, you save that money,” he says.

“I’m not going to not pay anything.”

He looks at me with a contrite expression. “I want to take care of you.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” I say. “I’m grateful that you want to, but I want to pay my way. I don’t want to feel dependent on you.”

“You’re only dependent on me for good loving,” he says as he leans down next to me.

I sniff. “Is the bacon burning?”

“Oops,” he says as he jumps up and goes running into the kitchen. “Let me take care of that, and I’ll cook your eggs and crepes, and I’ll be back.”

“Okay, darling.”

I grab my phone and scroll on Instagram and look at photos of Mia from her boat ride the previous evening. I then scroll and look at photos from Paris a couple of months ago.

It seems so long ago, how he took me on the trip, how we made love in every part of the hotel room in Paris, how we took a boat ride down the Seine, how we took a train to Versailles, how he surprised me with a trip to Champagne, where we drank real champagne, and all the baguettes and fromage and chocolate croissants.

It was an amazing trip and just confirmed to me all the different reasons why he was so special.

“I am back,” he says, carrying a tray with a single red rose along with a plate with two rashers of bacon, a fried egg over medium, and a crepe that looks absolutely delicious.

“I made you a cappuccino as well.” He grins. “I’ll be back in with some freshly squeezed orange juice.”

“You spoil me.”

“Because I love you,” he says.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

“I am going to eat something,” he says, winking at me.

“Rafe,” I call out as he chuckles and exits the room.

He hurries back with the coffee and orange juice and places it on the side table.

“Have some real food.”

“I consider you real food,” he says, nibbling on my shoulder.

“Rafe, really?”

“What can I say? I’m only hungry for you. You’re the taste that satiates me. You fill me up.”

“That is not a good enough meal, Rafe. I’m not going to make love to you unless you eat some of this crap and have some bacon.”

“I don’t need you to make love to me just for me to eat you out.”

“Rafe?”

He bursts out laughing and gets onto the bed and lies back. “I was thinking, do you want us to buy a new place?”

I look at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I was wondering if you wanted us to buy a beach house or something so you could have a view of the water.”