Twenty-Seven
Skye
Returning to Leo’s apartment felt strange. I was hit with so many different emotions as we entered. He rested the suitcase against the entrance wall and took me into the giant kitchen. I smelled food before I’d even entered.
There were plates of breakfast on the island, hot like they’d just gotten off the fryer, but no chef was in sight. Chef had some serious ninja skills.
Leo slid out of his suit jacket as I took a seat on the island stool. He sat next to me and ran his hand down my spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. For a moment, we stared heavily at each other. He still looked like he was holding a breath, and I was trying to figure out what it was aside from his looks that was different. I could sense a subtle change. It was one I hadn’t paid all that much attention to when we met for that hour every month. Those times, he was sitting behind a table, keeping his distance, and all he wanted was for me to talk.
I began to eat, eyeing him. He was disinterested in eating, his focus still on me, but he eventually looked away. Silence filled the space between us. Not awkward or anything. Just…different.
This was so strange.
I was used to loud mornings with the guys and crappy looking eggs on toast with burnt bacon because Faden sucked at cooking, but he seemed keen on destroying our kitchen every damn day. I couldn’t eat pub food, either, for fear of insulting him—
“What’s making you smile?” Leo wondered, lips flinching.
I shook my head. “Just thinking about breakfast at the clubhouse. It’s…nothing like this.”
“This?”
“Quiet,” I described before quickly adding, “This is a good thing. I missed the quiet.”
Did I?
I wasn’t sure.
Maybe I missed both.
Leo shrugged one shoulder. “It can get a little too quiet.”
I took a bite of my hashbrown. “Do you usually have breakfast here?”
He looked down at his plate. “Every morning.”
“Then what do you do?” I asked.
“I eat, and then I go to my office—”
“You have an office?”
“I converted one of the bedrooms.” He tapped his finger idly, still peering down at his plate. “I answer a lot of calls, sometimes I meet with people…” His words trailed off as he let out a long sigh. “Then I come back, hit the gym, go to bed, and do it all again in the morning.”
Sounded very…lonely. Which was crazy. Leo had never lived an isolating life. He was always the spark in a room. He drew a crowd in with his charm. If anything, it had always been Hunter that was lonely, and yet Hunter wasn’t lonely anymore, I reminded myself. The club had taken care of him; they were like family.
It was like they’d swapped roles or something.
My heart tugged for Leo. I had spent every waking moment surrounded by people. I barely had downtime except for when I went to bed. Even then, Hunter’s presence was always dominating, and I’d wound up wrapped in his arms, talking shit.
I’d forgotten what silence felt like.
I abandoned my food and slid off the stool. Leo turned his head to me as I stopped before him. I rested both hands on his thighs, and moved closer, staring into his eyes.
“There are going to be changes around here,” I stated, casually. “We’re going to make breakfast every morning. It’ll be a Leo/Skye tradition. We’ll have some beats on in the background—something fast and fun, nothing depressing like your moody stuff. You’ll prep the food and make a mess. I’ll cook and you’ll tell me how shitty I am in the kitchen. We’ll talk and poke fun, and you’ll stop being so broody.” I squeezed his muscled thighs, smiling brightly. “What do you think of my plan?”
He stared at my mouth. “Perfect, sweetness.”
“You’re ready for these changes?”