Page 33 of Rogue Romeo
REYNA
I wake to an empty penthouse.
A note on the table by the elevator explains everything.
Morning Sunshine,
The jet with Liv and my nephews on board landed while you were sleeping. I needed to go to meet her and the boys, but I’ll be back soon.
Get ready for a big ass day!
Thinking of you,
Pretty Boy
I glance around the empty penthouse as my stomach grumbles.
Loudly.
Breakfast it is.
I drop the note onto the table and march straight for the kitchen as my pajama shorts tickle my upper thighs. I spot an Apple smart speaker on the countertop, and excitement zings through my entire body.
Glancing upwards, I can’t help but zone in on the ignored acoustic ability of this place.
I bite my lip, bouncing back and forth on the balls of my feet. Blowing out a breath, I squeeze my eyes shut and utter the glorious words, “Siri, play Ed Sheeran.”
As though fated,“Thinking Out Loud”booms out through speakers clearly dotted throughout the space, and I smile brightly as I open the refrigerator, ready to cook up a storm.
My eyes land on the carton of eggs, so I grab them along with some milk and butter and set about making French Toast, having noted some vanilla flavoring in the well stocked pantry as we’d eaten Thai takeout before I’d gone to bed last night.
The music shifts to“Shape of You,”one of my Ed favorites, and my hips understand the assignment.
I crack the eggs into the bowl, then add the milk and vanilla before I grab a whisk from the well-stocked drawer and set to whipping.
The beat takes over, and soon I’m gyrating all over the kitchen without a care in the world. My voice decides that now—thanks to the vaulted ceilings—would be a great time to try to debate my tone-deafness, and before I know it, I’m screeching the lyrics at the top of my lungs.
I spin around and around, egg mixture flying left and right as my body is utterly consumed by the music, until I spot a flash in my peripheral vision.
I stop dead in my tracks, eyes landing unerringly on a laughing pretty boy whose cell is pointing right at me.
“Siri, pause.”
At my words, his lips lift in that lopsided smile that makes my stomach dip so that I can only shoot him a nasty look that sees him grab his chest in feigned pain.
“Don’t stop on my account, Sunshine.”
I push my mussed hair back out of my flushed face, belatedly realizing there’s egg mixture all over my hands—and now, in my hair.
“Ugh!” My huff of annoyance echoes through the space as I place the bowl on the countertop and glance around in search of cleaning products.
Alex edges closer. “How about you grab a shower, and I’ll sort breakfast. I havequitethe day planned for us.”
“It’s my mess—”
“And I’m plenty capable of cleaning it while you get ready.” He comes closer, swatting me lightly on my hip. “Now go shower, and wear something that slips off easily.”
My eyes blow wide as my jaw damn well almost hits the floor.