Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“Do you seriously not care what I spread on your toast?”
“I mean, I’d prefer you didn’t smear on something revolting, but so long as it’s not spoiled it’s all the same to me.”
I pretend to clutch a string of pearls at my neck. “‘It’s all the same to me?’ Sir, that is a tragic statement!”
He chuckles as he starts snooping through my cupboards. “Just make whatever you’re in the mood for, Baby Bird.”
“Fine. Then I’m going to make you the best avocado toast you’ve ever had.”
“That won’t be hard, since I’ve only had it once, and it was fine.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re impossible.”
Ben sets two plates on the counter and then steps around to the bar-side to give me room to work. I grab an avocado, a lime, some chili powder, and a loaf of whole wheat bread, laying all of my ingredients on the counter before I fetch a cutting board.
“Is this the kind of thing you and your dad would make together?” he asks.
“Not really,” I say, popping two slices of bread into the toaster. “This is more like a quick breakfast. If he and I were cooking, it was usually something more elaborate.”
He watches me mash the avocado in a small bowl. I sprinkle over some salt, squirt in a bit of lime, then add a few dashes of chili powder. When the toast is browned and slightly cooled, I top each slice with some avocado.
“It needs something else,” I say. I recall that I hardboiled some eggs last night and skip to the fridge to grab one.
“Finally,” Ben says, when I hand him the egg to peel. “Something I recognize.”
“Ha ha.” I rifle through my cooking-utensil drawer for a hand-held grater. “Just for that, I’m going to make it my mission to make you love food.”
“You really don’t have to do that, Skye.”
“Well, I want to. You’re clearly capable of taking pleasure in...other things. There’s no physiological reason you can’t take pleasure in food, too.”
“Suppose I can’t argue with you there.” Ben smiles as he hands the peeled egg back to me, then scoops the shell into his palm to dispose of it in the trash.
I grate the egg over the mashed avocado, making sure to get some white and some yellow on both pieces of toast. Ben fills two glasses with cold water and brings them to the table, as I salt and pepper the egg layer and then plate up our toasts.
We sit at my small table in companionable silence, munching our late-night snack. After a few minutes, Ben clears his throat.
“So,” he says, almost nervously. “We should probably talk about this.”
“You don’t like it?” I bite my lip, knowing full well that he isn’t talking about the toast.
Ben cocks his brow.
“You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re being cheeky.” He takes a long drink of water. “I should’ve asked you this beforehand, but is it all right that I called you Baby Bird?”
I can’t help smiling at the mention of his pet name for me.
“Yes, definitely.” I chew on the inside of my cheek. “I feel like I should ask if it’s okay that I call you Daddy, but...”
“But I was the one who said it first?”
I shrug and nod. Ben chortles.
“Skye, nothing has ever made me as happy as hearing you moan the word ‘Daddy’ for me.”
A giggle bubbles up from my chest. I clamp my hand over my mouth, feeling slightly embarrassed by my outburst.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I’m sorry.” I stare down at my empty plate. “Even though we’ve been together twice now, and I feel comfortable around you, I’m still kind of nervous. It’s like there’s a ball of excitement bouncing around in my stomach.”
Ben lays his hand over mine on the table.
“I feel the same way,” he says. “But as strange as it is, it feels right, too. Like something’s clicked into place.”
“Exactly.” I suppress a yawn. “Sorry. I’m pretty tired.”
“No need to apologize. It’s late. You should get ready for bed. I’ll take care of these plates.”
I’m too exhausted to argue, so I don’t. I shuffle into the bathroom to brush my teeth and then practically crash into bed. As I’m dozing between wakefulness and sleep, I feel the bed shift, and my blankets being lifted. I feel the press of a warm body against my back and sigh dreamily.
Warmth surrounds me and I snuggle into the source.
“Goodnight, Daddy,” I mumble.
Before I drift off, I feel his lips brush my shoulder.
“Sweet dreams, Baby Bird.”
seven
BEN
I wake up to a sunlit bedroom in an unfamiliar bed. All at once, the events of the previous night flood my consciousness, and I recall where I am—Skyler’s bed, in Skyler’s apartment. I almost can’t believe it really happened. But my body knows otherwise. I reach out my arm to pull her closer to me, but I’m met with cold, empty space.