Page 45 of Endurance

“You don’t have to do that,” I told him, but it was too late. He was already out the door.

I rolled out of bed and did quick work in the bathroom. Within twenty-five minutes, I was showered and dressed in frayed jean shorts and a gray off-the-shoulder T-shirt. I’d skipped putting on makeup but clipped my pink hair extensions into my ponytail before heading out to the kitchen. Once there, I saw Sloan had managed to find all the tools he needed and was working on our breakfast. Wearing those oh-so-snug jeans and nothing else, he looked glorious standing over a pan of eggs sizzling in a frying pan—like my very own sexy chef.

“Do you want help?” I offered as I watched him pull bread from the toaster.

“Not unless you can procure bacon out of thin air.”

I scrunched up my nose in disapproval.

“Pigs will never be on the menu in this house as long as I live here. Sorry, not sorry.”

“I’m just teasing you. I’m good with this. Have a seat. There’s coffee in the pot,” he said, pointing to the coffee maker on the counter. “I would have made you a cup, but I wasn’t sure how you take it.”

“I’m not a big coffee drinker. I prefer black tea.”

He cocked his head to the side, looking perplexed.

“Oh. I’ll drink it then. When you said you needed caffeine, I just assumed you meant coffee. I didn’t realize…”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence to remind me about how few personal details we knew about each other—right down to the basic things like coffee or tea. Yet here I was, consumed with unyielding seismic feelings after a night of unbridled passion. While we might not have been total strangers anymore, there was still so much we had yet to learn. Pushing the nagging worry aside, I filled the tea kettle with water and placed it on the stovetop to boil.

“Don’t sweat it, Sloan. How could you know?”

“Next time—and there will be a next time—I’ll remember,” he promised as he placed two plates of piping hot eggs on the table for each of us.

Next time.

Anticipation coursed through me after hearing just those two words, only to be replaced with disgust as I watched him douse his eggs in ketchup.

“You put ketchup on your eggs?” I asked incredulously.

“Along with fifty-four percent of Americans.”

“That’s gross,” I said with a laugh.

“I honestly prefer hot sauce, but you didn’t have any in the fridge. Ketchup isn’t bad, though. It’s pretty tasty. You should try it.”

I grimaced.

“No thanks. A little bit of salt and pepper is good enough for me.”

Suddenly feeling ravenous, I focused my attention on my own plate and speared a piece of the scrambled egg with my fork. We ate in the quiet for a while, content to enjoy our start-of-the-day meal. When we finished, I stood to clear the dishes. As I was stacking them into the dishwasher, the doorbell rang.

“That’s strange,” I mused. “Who would that be?”

Sloan cocked up a curious brow, then shrugged and continued to sip the remains of his coffee. Drying my hands quickly on a dishtowel, I made my way to the front door. When I opened it, my mouth dropped open. Gabby was standing there beside a suitcase on the other side.

“Surprise!” she said with a wide grin. Without giving me a second to absorb my shock, she rushed in and wrapped me in a tight hug.

“Gabby! I’m so glad to see you! I wasn’t expecting—” I stopped short when I felt her stiffen. Taking a step back, I followed her gaze and saw that she’d spotted Sloan. He was still sitting at the kitchen table, in all of his shirtless glory, looking just as stunned as I was.

“I wanted to surprise you, but it looks like I should have called,” Gabby said somewhat indignantly as she pushed a lock of chestnut hair from her forehead. To say there was tension in the air was an understatement. I could only imagine what the scene looked like to her—and it was exactly as it appeared.

“No! I’m glad you’re here. Austin mentioned that you were going to visit, but I wasn’t expecting that to be for another few weeks. Come in. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Pulling her inside, I closed the door, took her suitcase, and wheeled it off to the side. Standing like a pickle caught in the middle, I nervously motioned to Sloan. “Gabby, meet Sloan. Sloan, this is my best friend, Gabby.”

Standing up, Sloan approached us and extended his hand to her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gabby.”

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