“You don’t think it’ll be weird at work?”
“Babe, I’m pretty sure that everyone at work knows that we’ve at least slept together. The way we’ve been with each other these last few weeks, they know.” Moving out from under me, he gets out of bed. Going over to his chest of drawers, he pulls out a pair of dark gray drawstring pajama bottoms and puts them on. “My dad even asked me about it the other day. Asked what was going on with you and me.”
Lying on my side, I prop myself up on my elbow. “What did you tell him?”
“That I was pissed off because you wouldn’t fuck me.” He grins.
“You never said that!” I gasp.
“What else was I going to say?” He comes and sits on the bed. “That I was fucking cut up because you didn’t want me? I don’t go that deep with my dad, babe.”
My eyes lower, my lips turning down at the corners.
“Hey.” He chucks my chin with his fingers.
I look back up at him.
“Don’t feel bad. That shit is all in the past. We’re here now, and we’re good.” He tucks my hair behind my ear.
“No, we’re better than good. We’re great.” I slide my hand around his neck. Bringing his lips down to mine, I kiss him.
“You want me to get your phone?” he says in between kisses.
“Would you?” I blink, looking into his eyes.
“I’d do just about anything for you.” He winks and then gets up from the bed. “Back in a few.”
I watch his hot arse leave the bedroom. Needing the bathroom, I climb out of bed and use the toilet.
After I’ve finished, my stomach is rumbling, and I’m dying for coffee, so I decide to meet Carrick downstairs.
I grab his Rybell T-shirt and boxer shorts that I wore last night when we had pizza because all my clothes are still scattered around his garage. I hope he retrieves them when he gets my phone.
I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen. I’ve just got the coffee brewing and bread in the toaster when Carrick appears with my phone, my clothes, and a box in his hands.
“Delivery guy turned up while I was outside. Starter motor’s here.” He puts the box down on the counter along with my clothes, and he hands me my phone.
“He was early,” I comment.
“Yeah. Aw, you’re making coffee and toast. You’re the best girlfriend ever.” He presses a kiss to my cheek as he passes by me.
I freeze at the term, surprised to hear him calling me his girlfriend. Then, I relax, letting it seep into me.
I am his girlfriend. And he’s my boyfriend.
And I sound like I’m still in high school.“You want jam, Nutella, or peanut butter on your toast?” he asks me from the fridge.
“Um…Nutella.”
“Good choice.” He comes over with a jar of Nutella, putting it on the counter in front of me.
“I should call Uncle John and let him know I’m not coming in.”
“Call him. I’ll finish breakfast.”
Taking my phone, I walk out into the hall. I see a few texts from my mum, Petra, and Ben, and I have a missed call from Uncle John.
Swiping the screen, I call him back.
“I called you yesterday. I was hoping to have dinner with you last night.” Uncle John’s voice comes down the line.
“Sorry. I was out with a friend.” I choose not to elaborate. I can’t tell him now, not with me pulling a sickie. “That’s kind of why I’m calling. I think I ate something last night that disagreed with me, and I feel ill. Stomachache.” I actually press my hand to my belly, like he can see me.
“Are you okay? Do you need me to come around, take care of you?”
“No.” My voice goes unnaturally high, so I rein it back in. “No, I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep it off, I think. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
“Well, no rush. Just come in when you feel up to it.”
“Okay. Thanks, Uncle John.”
“I’ll call you later, check how you’re doing. Feel better soon, kiddo.”
Saying good-bye, I hang up with him. Then, I reply to my mum’s text. If I don’t, she’ll start freaking out.
Then, I go back into the kitchen.
Carrick’s already poured the coffee and made my toast, all set out for me on the breakfast bar. He’s munching on his own toast, reading something on his phone.
He lowers it when he sees me. “Okay?” he checks.
“Yeah, fine.” I sit up on the stool. “I feel crappy lying to him, but if it means I get to spend the day with you, then it’s worth it.”
That earns me a heart-stopping smile.
After we’ve finished breakfast, I load the plates and cups into the dishwasher, seeing as though Carrick made breakfast.
We take a shower together, which ends up being longer than it should, as I end up bent over, hands pressed to the tiles, with Carrick taking me from behind.
We finally make it down to the garage where I put on my overalls over another one of Carrick’s clean T-shirts and boxer shorts. As my clothes are grubby, I’ve put them in his machine to wash, so at least I’ll have some clean clothes to go home in.
Carrick seems to quite like me in his clothes. Honestly, I like wearing them. I like smelling of him.
We have the starter motor fitted in less than an hour. Quick easy job with the both of us. But I let Carrick do most of the fitting. I’m quite happy to sit back and watch his delicious arse bent over the car.