Page 98 of The Boss Situation

Laughter bursts from him as he catches each orange and sets them on the counter. “I’d have to be a clown to think hanging out with you is a good idea.”

“Hardy har har. Youenjoymy company. You crave it. Even when I’m busting your balls.”

“Especiallywhen you’re busting my balls,” he corrects, flipping the bacon with a wink. “It’s one of my favorite pastimes actually.”

I return to the barstool and rest my chin on my palm as I quietly watch him navigate the space. I sip my rich espresso, enjoying the moment as the savory smell of bacon wafts through the large, open space. The salty breeze drifts through the open windows, and for the first time in years, I feel like I’m living.

It’s surreal, being here with Asher like this. It’s comfortable and relaxed in a way I could’ve never imagined, like slipping into a favorite old sweater that still fits perfectly.

He catches me daydreaming, and a teasing smile plays at the corners of his perfect lips. “Enjoying the view?”

“Yep. The beach looks gorgeous from the windows.” I lift my brows playfully, glancing past him at the shimmering waves.

“Once a smart-ass …”

“Alwaysone,” I say.

A few minutes later, Asher slides a plate toward me, leaningacross the counter casually while handing me a fork. “Go ahead. I want to make sure the princess is fully satisfied.”

I take a bite of the fluffy scrambled eggs, closing my eyes in delight. “Not bad, Banks. Not bad at all. Compliments to the chef.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, his golden-brown eyes piercing through me. “I know it’s fucking good. Thanks for the confirmation though.”

“Your confidence is dangerous,” I mutter, picking up a crispy slice of bacon and crunching into it.

“Only because it’s your kryptonite.” Asher fills his plate and sits on the stool beside me, so close that our legs touch.

Being this close to him is overwhelming but exciting—a reminder of how quickly things are changing. We’re first-class passengers on a runaway train that neither of us can stop. If I could, I’m not sure I would.

“I’m really happy you’re here,” he says between bites.

“I am too.”

Time feels like it freezes as our gazes briefly lock. Heat rushes up my body, and my cheeks grow hot. It’s like he sees me in my rawest form. Asher always has.

I swallow hard, trying my best to maintain my composure. It’s a losing battle, especially when the walls we spent over a decade building sit, crumbled, at our feet.

“Careful. If you keep looking at me like that, you might tempt me to fuck around and find out,” I tell him.

He tries to hold back a smile but fails. It’s warm and gentle and so damn sexy that I can barely handle it.

“I think you’recurrentlyfucking around and finding out.”

I grin as a comfortable silence takes over. We eat and exchange random glances, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company. I reach for my phone, checking the time, knowing I need to head back to the city within the next hour. He notices, but doesn’t say anything.

The seconds continue to pass, and neither of us can stop them.Time—it’s one of our most precious commodities. No matter how many zeros are at the end of my bank account balance, I can never buy more of this.

Asher picks up our empty plates and carries them to the sink.

“Let me help,” I offer, standing.

“You’re my guest,” he says, rinsing them clean before popping them in the dishwasher. He dries his hands with a towel, the muscles in his arms flexing as he moves.

“Thanks for breakfast. It was great,” I offer, genuinely appreciative.

“Anytime. Fun fact: breakfast is my favorite meal of the day.”

“I usually skip it,” I admit.

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