Page 34 of Embracing the Beat
MIA: It’ll be fun!
MIA: The director is glaring at me since I’m on my phone and should be filming. Gotta go. Love you!
MICHAELA: Have fun!
The longer my plan percolates, the more I like it. Sawyer is a workaholic. I’ll have his apartment to myself.
West works all day. You have the house to yourself here too.
But here, I can easily remember the two of us in this room, the light low but bright enough to show off the way the muscle in his jaw had pulsed as he’d come the other night. His cologne lingers in the air long after he leaves the room. Temptation incarnate. And given my track record, I don’t do so great saying no when faced with something I crave.
I shoot a quick text to Sawyer and head for the shower. I could spend all day under the hot water after the last few days. But a knock on the bathroom door after twenty minutes shoots that idea down.
“Mikey, you almost done? Breakfast is ready.”
“Yeah,” I say reluctantly. “Be out in a minute.”
I check my phone as I head downstairs, hoping for a response from Sawyer. Nothing. And patience isn’t my strong suit. It’s fine though. I’ll leave Sawyer alone until after breakfast.
“Hey, feeling better?” West notices me hovering in the door and motions me forward with a smile.
“Definitely more human.”
Is this as awkward for him as it is for me?
“Good.” He points at the table. “I kept it light since I wasn’t sure how much you could actually eat. Toast and fruit.”
I shrug. “This is more than I normally eat for breakfast.”
He pins me with a stare, and I swallow roughly as I hover over my seat.
“What do you normally eat for breakfast?” His voice is deceptively casual.
“Coffee,” I tell him, lifting my cup for a drink. My stomach rebels slightly, but I don’t care.
Damn him. He even made my coffee the way I like.
Sawyer, please text me back.
“Coffee isn’t food,” he lectures.
“Yes, Dad. Last time I checked, I was old enough to look after myself.”
“If you’re only having coffee for breakfast, that’s not really looking after yourself,” he says.
I open my mouth to argue but snap it shut again. His statement reinforces exactly how he sees me. Little sister. Why am I going to argue with him? Instead, I spread jelly on my toast and take a bite. My stomach growls as the sweet berry flavor bursts on my tongue, and I’m nearly finished with the whole piece before he speaks up again.
“Slow down there, turbo. You don’t want to make yourself sick.”
I roll my eyes but do as he says. I don’t want him to think I’m a slob.
“Thanks for breakfast,” I mumble.
“Sure.” He shrugs. “Why do you keep checking your phone?”
Busted.
“No reason.” I try to play it off. “Just texted Sawyer, and I’m waiting to hear back.”
