Page 52 of Hard Rock Love
18
The next morning, I woke with the scent of cooked eggs in my nose. I blinked at the sunlight streaming through my widow and squinted. Was Everly home? I’d thought she was spending the week with Julian.
Memories of the previous night returned and I whipped my head around to the bed next to me. Seth was gone, but the pillows and blankets on his side were piled in a mess. That explained the eggs. Seth was making me breakfast.
I hugged a pillow to my chest and buried my face in it, trying not to break into a girlish squeal. It was so immature of me, like a thirteen year old teenager crushing on the popular guy in class, but I couldn't help it. Seth ignited that sort of feeling inside me. He was funny, and he was sweet, and he was absolutely perfect.
I couldn’t for the life of me explain why he was attracted to someone like me, but I wasn’t going to let my insecurities get the better of me. Not this time. We’d kissed, had a movie night, and fell asleep in each other's arms.
If that wasn’t enough to cause giddy excitement to take over my rational mind, I didn’t know what was.
I slipped out of bed and poked my head out of the bedroom door. Seth was in the kitchen scooping scrambled eggs out of a pan and onto a pair of plates. I padded over on bare feet.
“Are you trying to win thebest boyfriend in the worldaward?” I asked.
My breath hitched when I realized I used the word boyfriend when we hadn’t even talked about it, but Seth just looked up with a raised eyebrow.
“Is it that easy?” he asked. “A plate of eggs and all of a sudden I’m winning awards? Damn, that’s a low bar. All us men in the world better step it up.”
I suppressed a silly little smile.
“You don’t have much competition in that regard,” I reminded him. “All I’ve got to compare you to is a few kisses from a boy in eighth grade after gym class and a few fumblings with some guy in my freshmen year of high school.”
“That is a low bar, indeed,” he said. “You’re in need of an education. Lucky for you, although I may be a terrible student, I’m an excellent teacher.”
He threw me a cocky smirk as he flipped the spatula over in his hand.
A few weeks ago I might have flushed furiously, but now all I felt was butterflies of anticipation. We were going to take things slow, but I couldn’t deny being eager to learn the more intimate subjects they definitely didn’t teach in school.
“But you need a healthy breakfast if you want to be in top shape to study, so dig in.” Seth gestured to the plates on the island counter. I sat on one of the stools and he took a seat next to me.
I took my first bite and my eyes went wide.
“This is amazing!” I said when I’d finished swallowing. “They don’t taste like any eggs I’ve ever had before. Are you some kind of genius in the kitchen?”
“I like to experiment, remember? I’m always putting weird shit in my food, trying to see what new combinations of things I can come up with. Usually I fail, but sometimes I discover a gem. Like these eggs,” he added. “I’m pretty proud of my recipe.”
“What’s in it?” I asked.
“It’s a secret,” he said. “If I told you I’d have to kill you. And if I’m going to kill you, I’d rather it be death by orgasm.”
“Is that even possible?” I asked after another bite.
“The French have a phrase for it,” he said. “La petite mort. It meansthe little death, and it’s a euphemism for an orgasm, the pleasure being so good you black out and lose consciousness.”
“Doesn’t seem realistic,” I said. “No orgasm can possibly be that good.”
Seth leaned in and put his lips to my ear as he rested his hand on my thigh.
“Would you like me to prove you wrong?” he asked.
My insides turned to liquid at the wicked lilt in his voice, and at the burn of his hand on my bare leg. My sleep shorts were really short, and his fingers felt like a brand on my skin.
Seth nuzzled at my jaw, right below my ear. His hot breath washed over me.
“Just how soon do you want to start your lessons?” he murmured.
I inhaled sharply, my hand closing tight around my fork.
