Page 21 of Curvy Cabin Fever
I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“Hold up,” I blurt, turning the eggs down so they don’t burn. “You thoughtwhat?”
Aria swallows and plays with the empty mug instead of looking at me. “Well, I’m not tiny by any stretch of the imagination, and I’m sure you’re used to beautiful women…”
“Aria,” my voice is dangerously low as I lean forward, my finger tipping her chin so she has no option but to look at me, “have you fucking seen yourself?”
Aria closes her eyes, and a small laugh leaves her lips. I move back and shake my head.
“You just spent the night with one of the most eligible bachelors in America. That man doesn’t have girlfriends. He doesn’t date. Most people think he’s gay, but I can assure you, as a bisexual man, he is not.” I huff and turn back to the eggs as the toast pops up in the toaster. “Gross. I don’t want to ever hear you talking about yourself like that again, do you understand me?” I butter the two slices of toast and slide another two in as her eyes widen.
“Two slices is fine!” she protests, but I shake my head as I tip the cooked eggs onto them.
“After what I heard last night, that was a four-slice orgasm, girl. You need some carbs.”
8
ARIA
Morgan watches me from across the kitchen with an unreadable gaze.
“You don’t have to stare,” I mutter, shifting under his gaze as I sip my coffee.
His lips twitch. “Yeah, I do.”
I roll my eyes, setting my mug down. “Are you planning on explaining that, or do you just enjoy making me uncomfortable?”
He leans against the counter, arms crossed, all casual confidence. “Just trying to figure you out.”
I arch a brow. “Oh? And what have you come up with so far?”
Morgan hums like he’s considering it, his gaze dipping over me again—not in an obvious way, but enough to make my skin heat. “You’re a little shy when you don’t need to be. You think too much. And you have no idea how good you look right now.”
My stomach tightens, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter. “Is that so?”
“Mmhm.” He pushes off the counter and crosses the space between us. Not too close, but close enough that I feel the shift in the air, the weight of his presence. “Tell me something, Aria.”
I swallow. “What?”
“Did you sleep well?” His voice is low, teasing—but there’s something heavier beneath it.
I knowexactlywhat he’s asking.
I meet his eyes, daring myself not to look away. “I slept just fine.”
Morgan smirks. “I’ll bet you did.”
The way he says it—slow, almost knowing—sends heat straight through me.
I exhale, trying to shake off the tension. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Nope.” He tilts his head, watching me like he’s waiting for me to react. When I don’t, he steps even closer, his voice dropping. “What aboutbeforeyou fell asleep?”
My breath catches.
Morgan watches my reaction, his smirk deepening, like he’s already got his answer.
I huff, looking away as I tuck my hands under the hem of Damien’s shirt. “Is there any bottled water?”
