The sun falls over the tiny apartment.

The breeze blows between the windows. It ruffles her hair. Raises goose bumps on her skin.

She rolls onto her back. Stretches her arms over her head as she stirs.

Her eyes blink open. Fix on mine. “You were watching me sleep.”

“A little.”

“How creepy.”

“I prefer romantic.”

Her lips curl into a smile. “You would.”

“You never watch me?”

She makes a show of crossing her fingers. “Never.”

“Believable.”

She laughs. “Thanks.” She pushes herself onto her elbows. Turns to check the time on the microwave. “It’s not really ten. Tell me it isn’t ten.”

I slide off the bed. Grab my cell from the dining table. “It is.”

She lets out one of those I want to sleep forever groans.

“You’re off today. Go back to bed.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m working later.”

“How much later?”

“One.”

“That’s only three hours.”

“Still plenty of time.” I offer my hand. “I’ll buy you breakfast.”

She smooths her loose tank top. Adjusts her cotton panties. Both are white. Sheer. Inviting as fuck. “I’m not going anywhere until I take care of this travesty.” She twirls a silver-purple strand around her finger.

“Travesty?”

“I don’t have a stronger word.” She slides off the bed. Tugs at the drawstrings of my pajama pants. “Can I destroy these?”

“I have more.”

“And those too?”

“You want me naked, ask.”

She bites her lip as she gives me a long, slow once-over. When other women look at me like this, I get irritated. But there’s something about the delight in Leighton’s eyes.

It’s intoxicating.

“Tempting.” She drags her fingertips over my stomach. “But something tells me I won’t get my hair done if you’re naked.”

“Something?”

“Experience.” She rises to her toes to press her lips to my forehead. “I’m going to get ready. We can have breakfast here. Hang until you need to leave.”

“I’ll make coffee.”

She blows me a kiss, spins on her heels, moves into the bathroom.

There’s actual food in her fridge—I dragged her to Trader Joe’s last night. She deserves all of it. She deserves a feast. I settle on scrambled eggs.

I scoop coffee into the French press, set the electric kettle to boil, gather the ingredients for breakfast.

Steam fills the air.

I pour hot water over coffee.

The smell of java fills the room as I chop. Then it’s tomatoes and bell peppers. Eggs.

Leighton’s footsteps move closer. “I’m going to have to kidnap you at this rate.”

I shoot her my best don’t fuck with me look. “You want to throw down?”

“No. But you can throw me down. On the bed.” She laughs. “That was bad. I must be caffeine deprived.”

“You got your point across.”

She brushes against me as she moves to the coffee maker. Fills two mugs. Fixes mine light on the cream and sugar, hers heavy on it. “Mmm. You’re too good at this.” She slides onto the counter behind me. “It’s too bad my place is so small. I can’t bribe you to move in.”

“You can’t?”

“Well… I’m sure I can think of something. But with the lack of air conditioning—it’s really hot, huh?”

“A little.” The ocean breeze is enough to cool us off. With her sitting there smiling, it’s hard to complain about a room a few degrees too hot. “I can ice that coffee.”

“It won’t be strong enough.” She takes a long sip. Lets out a low moan.

My cock stirs.

I love that sound.

I know what buttons to push to get her naked. Fuck, the thought of pinning her to the counter and driving into her—

I will.

But not yet.

Not until she’s panting.

I turn the pan off. Scoop eggs onto ceramic plates. Bring them to the dining table.

Leighton joins me with the coffees. “Would you want that?”

I arch a brow.

“To live together?”

“One day.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” But it’s still hard to believe this is real. That she wants me that badly. That she’ll stick around.

She’s beautiful, smart, charming.

She could have her pick of any of the guys who come into the shop.

I know I’m a catch in all the superficial ways. In others too. But it’s not like I take care of her to win points. It’s what I want.

I want her happy, healthy, well fed.

I want her coming until she can’t take it anymore.

I want her fucking beaming.

Yeah, I’m letting go of Penny’s hold on me, but the baggage is there.

It’s hard for me to believe I’ll be enough for someone.

That I’ll be able to trust someone.

That they’ll trust me.

It's fucking everything knowing Leighton wants me like this.

But there’s still that voice in the back of my head, nagging at me, asking me if I can believe this is real.

I will get over it.

But it’s not gonna be fast. Not if my history of getting over shit is any indication.

“You sure you can handle an all black apartment?” I tease.

She laughs. “We’ll have to compromise.”

“Fuck. This might be a deal breaker.”

Her smile spreads over her cheeks. “What’s with the black sheets? I’ve only ever seen black sheets on guy’s beds when they’re goth.”

“You’ve seen that many?”

“Shut the fuck up.” She blushes. “I was never a Dean, but I… I had fun.”

“Was it fun?”

She stares into my eyes, assessing my intentions. She must decide I’m worth trusting, because she nods. “When I was bartending, yeah. That was a solid four years, I guess, of being careful with guys. I only dated guys who seemed like a good time. I made it clear I wasn’t interested in anything serious. I didn’t get invested.”

“Didn’t that get lonely?”

“Sometimes. But that was better than the alternative.” She stabs a red pepper and brings it to her mouth.

“Getting hurt?”

“Yeah.” She scoops eggs into her mouth, chews, swallows. “I did enough of that in high school. Fell for the whole I love you, honey. Let’s make love bullshit. Let guys treat me like crap because I believed they’d change. Before I gave up on my mom, I still believed people could change.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know. You’ve changed.”

“You have too.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re starting your own business.”

“Eventually.” She finishes her last sip of coffee. “In a long, long time.”

“It will come up fast.”

She sets her mug down. Traces its rim. “I know. But I don’t want to talk about leaving.”

Fair enough. I nod. Inhale my food. She worked me hard last night. I’m starving.

“I guess I gave up on guys long before I gave up on my mom. There wasn’t really anything notable. Just a long string of shitty boyfriends. One day, I was at work, crying in the bathroom because I’d just gotten dumped via text, again, and I decided I was done. I was done choosing the wrong men.”

“Did it work?”

“Sorta. I kept choosing guys who weren’t boyfriend material, but I stopped trying to make them my boyfriend. I stayed in control. I missed that feeling of intimacy, believing I could trust someone. But it was better that way. Easier.”

“Why’d you stop?”

“Sleeping around?”

“Yeah.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“I don’t like thinking about you with other guys.”

She chews on her bottom lip. Her blue-green eyes flare with concern.

“But, no, I don’t care that you used to sleep around. It doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with before.”

“It’s not that many.”

“It could be a thousand or one. Wouldn’t matter to me either way.”

“Really?”

“Really.” I know her well enough to know she’s telling the truth. Those guys didn’t matter to her. They had her body, yeah, but they never had her head or her heart.

And the ones who did, who manipulated that younger, more trusting version of Leighton—

If I ever meet any of them, I’ll punch their douchebag faces.

“That’s incredibly evolved of you,” she says.

“Learned from you.”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m not there. I get sick thinking about you and Penny.”

“Still?”

“Yeah.” She finishes her last bite. Pushes her plate away. “But I’m getting better. Thinking about it less.”

“Me too.”

She pushes herself to her feet. “I want to shower. But I have to do my hair first. And I don’t want to waste our time together.”

“I’ll help.”

She raises a brow. “I don’t know.”

“You think I’m not capable.”

She moves closer. Reaches down to run three fingers through my locks. “Tell me these are natural.”

“Natural?”

“That you’re not doing at home perms?”

“At home whats?”

“Perms!” She makes that ugh noise. “Men have it so easy. No makeup. No chemical treatments. No high heels.”

“You don’t need any of that shit. You look fucking amazing right now.”

Her cheeks flush. “Thank you. But I like that shit.”

“Then don’t complain.”

She flips me off.

I grab her wrist, bring her finger to my lips, suck on her fingertip.

Her knees press together. “I will do my hair before I fuck you.”

“While you fuck me?”

She shakes my head. “In my shower cap? No. Wait.” She giggles as she pulls her finger back. “I’m skipping too many steps. You can’t see me in a shower cap.”

“I bet you look fucking amazing?”

She shakes her head.

“Twenty bucks.”

“Who are you, Dean?”

I shudder. “Never say that again.”

“Or?”

“Or I’ll punish you.”

“You’re not doing a good job convincing me.”

I take my last bite, chew, swallow. “Or I won’t punish you.”

She laughs. “That’s better.”

“What if I wear one too.”

She brushes my hair up my head, first the right side, then the left. “Hmm. I think you’ll look more ridiculous than I will.”

“I wore a cap on swim team.”

“You did not.”

“I did.”

“You have pictures?”

“I was twelve, you perv.”

She laughs. “How about you recreate it for me later?”

“Sure.” I press my lips to hers. “In Hawaii.”

Her lips curl into a frown. It’s a quick thing. A second, and she’s smiling again. “Okay. Come with me.”

I follow her to the bathroom.

She places the lid on the toilet seat, motions for me to sit.

I slide my arms around her waist instead.

She leans into my touch. “I will send you home.”

“You won’t.”

“Are you testing me?”

“I need a reason to hold you?”

In the mirror, her eyes catch mine. “Okay. Stay there. One step back. Be good.”

I release her. Step backward. “Good?”

“No funny business.” She reaches for the hem of her tank top, bends her arms to pull it over her head.

“This is entrapment, baby.”

She shrugs is it? “I don’t want to startle you. But I’m about to put on something even sexier?”

“Than you topless?”

She folds her arms over her chest. Her expression gets shy.

It’s fucking adorable.

God, there’s something about seeing take no prisoners, I get off on showing off my tits Leighton shy.

It’s hot.

And sweet.

I’m not sure whether I want to fuck her or hold her.

Her ass brushes against my crotch as she bends at the waist.

That answers that question.

My fingers curl into her hips.

“After.” She swallows hard. Her breath gets erratic as she opens the cabinet, pulls a shoe box from it. She rolls from her hips to rise. Sets the box on the counter.

“You’d turn me down?”

She bites her lip. “I had this idea.”

“Yeah?”

She pulls the lid from the box, finds an old Inked Hearts t-shirt stained with half a dozen different colors, dons it. “I never got to give you that lap dance.”

My cock stirs.

“I thought we could do that after.”

Conscious thought flees my brain.

“If you’re into it.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not too trashy?”

“Isn’t that the appeal?”

“Well… I guess it’s obvious I like showing off my body.”

I nod.

“You could try to look surprised.”

My thoughts return with my laugh. I wrap my arms around her. Plant a kiss on her neck. “Does it turn you on, the thought of being my personal stripper?”

Her nod is heavy.

“Then I fucking love it.”

“Okay.” Her blush spreads to her chest. “What do you want me to wear?”

“Same shit you always wear.”

She arches a brow. “Not a schoolgirl outfit or something?”

“No.”

“But isn’t that the fantasy?”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Leigh? You are my fantasy.”