“Morning,” I greet with a smile.
“Good morning.” She sniffs the air. “Is that coffee I smell?”
“Yep. How do you take it?”
“However you’ll give it to me,” she flirts, coming up and planting a kiss on my lips.
“Don’t tempt me,” I growl, drawing her in for another kiss and gently clamping her bottom lip between my teeth.
She giggles and heads for the coffee pot, pouring the dark liquid into the empty mug nearby. “Milk? Creamer?” she asks.
“Both are in the fridge. I made you an omelet. Wasn’t sure what you liked, so it’s pretty simple.”
She spins around with the hazelnut creamer in her hand. “Finally cashing in on that raincheck for breakfast. It’s only been a couple months.”
“Hey, you chose to leave early that night.”
“You didn’t want me to spend the night then,” she says with a laugh, dumping spoonfuls of sugar into the cup.
“Not at first,” I admit. “Right before you were about to leave, I suddenly wanted you to stay.”
She spins around, leaning against the counter. “Really?”
I nod. “If you had stayed, I may have found out you were a student, then I wouldn’t have been so surprised on Monday.”
She barks out a laugh. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have been able to see your shocked face.”
“I thought I was gonna pass out.”
Nova shakes her head, a wide smile plastered to her face. “And now, here we are.”
I take the omelet out of the microwave and place it on the island. “Here we are.”
She sits on the stool and devours the food before polishing off her coffee. “I usually only have time for a banana in the morning. You’re going to spoil me here.”
“I’m okay with that.”
Her cheeks redden as she tries to hide a smile. She glances at the clock that reads five to seven. “Ugh. So early,” she groans. “How long does it take to get to the college from here?”
“Fifteen minutes maybe. Oh, and my brother dropped off his car last night. I got the keys from the mailbox this morning.”
“Oh, great. Thank you. Or thank him for me. I appreciate it.”
Nova rinses off her dishes and puts them in the dishwasher like she’s done it hundreds of times. Her being her feels so comfortable and so right. I can’t imagine her leaving, but I know she has to go back home eventually.
She rushes back upstairs to grab her things for school, then stops in front of me at the door. “Better get to work, Professor.”
I smack her ass and squeeze, pulling her into me. “Better get to class, Miss Rivera.”
“Oh, I am. I have to get there early to finish some calculus work. My teacher is such a dick,” she jokes, rolling her eyes.
I arch a brow. “Oh yeah?”
She nods, biting her lip to hide a smile. “Mhm. The biggest dick,” she says slowly, her hand groping me through my pants.
“You keep that up and you’re gonna make us both late.”
She removes her hand and gives me an innocent, doe-eyed expression. “Tonight?”
“You can plan on it.”
40
I’m amazed at how easily Elijah and I slip into a routine. You’d think we’d been living together for years.
In class, we play our roles of student and teacher. Okay, maybe there’s a few stolen glances and grins. Perhaps he’s thrown me a wink when the class couldn’t see. I may have softly stroked his hand with my fingers when I handed in my work. But other than that, everything’s been running like normal.
Sometimes I see him at the library when I’m working, but at the end of the day, we both end up in his house making dinner together. Well, okay, he’s been trying to teach me to cook dinner. I’m mostly a spectator. Regardless, it’s been fun.
Thursday, we kept it simple with steaks and baked potatoes. Friday, we made chicken cordon bleu. His was perfect, mine was not, but they both tasted good, so that’s all that matters. And Saturday I made him order food from a place he’s never eaten before. I thought it would be hard, considering he’s lived in this small town his whole life, but there’s a local place that popped up a couple years ago that he never tried. It was an Indian restaurant, and we got their combination dinner for two, which came with a variety of foods we’d never had before.
Our times spent in the kitchen are some of the best times we have. I make him laugh a lot, and hearing him laugh always puts a smile on my face. I’ve turned up my music while we cook, and I’ve tried getting him to dance with me. He’s pretty steadfast on not dancing, but he lets me dance all over him. I’ll take what I can get.
We work in tandem, both with cooking and cleaning up. Once we’re done with dinner, we move into his den where he does his work and I do mine.
I’ve brought over one of my favorite books and told him to read it, just to get him reading something besides the newspaper. He protested, saying he wouldn’t be into a sci-fi dystopian novel, but I’m nothing if not persistent. I started reading it aloud in bed, and sure enough, he became interested. He’s already halfway in.
We always have an amazing time in bed, and sometimes in the shower, and once in the den after we completed our work. But once our day is over, we end up tangled in each other under the covers. I either sleep with my head on his chest and one leg draped over his, or with my back to him, pushing my ass into his crotch.
Wrapped in his arms, I feel safe and secure. His compliments make me feel like the most beautiful
