Page 26 of Sinfully Yours

I smirk, turning back to the coffee machine. "Because some of us don't sleep like the dead, Bennett."

She groans, running a hand through her hair as she leans against the counter. "That's unfortunate for you."

I chuckle, pouring hot water into the machine. "You're a menace in the morning, aren't you?"

Ava stretches, letting out a contented sigh that I shouldn't find as distracting as I do, then leans her cheek against the fridge. "I require caffeine before I can properly function."

I nudge a mug toward her. "Lucky for you, I anticipated your weaknesses."

She blinks at the cup, then at me. "You made coffee?"

"Shocking, I know."

She takes the mug, wrapping both hands around it like I just handed her the meaning of life. She takes a slow sip, her eyes fluttering shut for half a second, and I force myself to look away before I do something stupid like wonder what it would be like to wake up next to her every morning.

No. Nope. We are not going there.

"So," I say, clearing my throat, "feeling any better about last night's text?"

Ava's expression sobers instantly, her fingers tightening around the mug. She glances down, studying the coffee like it holds all the answers. "Not really."

I lean against the counter, watching her carefully. "We'll figure out who's behind it."

She exhales through her nose, lifting her gaze to mine. "You sound so sure."

"I am."

She stares at me with those sleep-soaked eyes of hers, her hair mussed like a wild animal, her cheeks rosy. Then she huffs, taking another sip of coffee. "That's very cocky of you."

I raise my mug at her. "It's one of my better qualities."

She snorts, shaking her head, but there's something lighter in her expression now. Something a little less weighed down by last night's panic.

And that, at least, feels like a win.

Ava takes another slow sip, then glances up at me. "So, what's the plan?"

"First," I say, tapping the counter, "you finish that coffee before your brain fully reboots and you remember how much you allegedly hate having me around."

She mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like, "it's getting harder," but I pretend not to hear it.

"Then," I continue, "we wait for Tyler's update. He'll track the number, figure out whether we're dealing with a run-of-the-mill creep or something more serious."

Ava nods, but I can see the hesitation in her eyes. "And until then?"

I tilt my head, studying her. "Until then, I stick around."

She lifts a brow. "You're not leaving?"

I take a slow sip of my own coffee before smirking. "You say that like you don't want me here."

She takes a big gulp of her coffee. "I never said that."

I set my mug down, watching her for a beat longer. And maybe it's the lack of sleep or the way she looks standing there, wrapped up in the warmth left behind by the coffee and the approaching morning, but for a second—just one reckless second—I let myself imagine it.

Waking up here. Cooking her breakfast. Pulling her in by the waist before she can pour herself a second cup of coffee.

Like I belong here.

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