Games of Love: Enemies-to-Lovers Romance
Page 20
Nora gave me a knowing smile in the mirror, nodding. “That’s very kind of you, Connor.”
I shook my head, looking anywhere but at Sadie as my neck warmed.
Soon enough, the car arrived at my apartment complex and I scooped Sadie up into my arms, tucking her into the warmth of my chest as she slept. She would need all of the sleep that she could get. Moving into my space and meeting my father were going to be interesting for both of us, to say the least. I opened the door to my apartment and tucked Sadie into the couch with a warm blanket and a soft pillow under her head. Tomorrow was a big day.
Chapter 5
Sadie
The couch underneath me was soft and plush, cool leather. I rolled over contentedly, turning onto my side, and curling into the warmth of the fluffy blanket. Sleep fell over me once again, pulling me into a colorful dream, and then I woke staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. I remembered very quickly that the couch in my apartment was old and the slats had a habit of pressing into your back if you laid on them for too long. This was not my couch.
I jolted up quickly, still wrapped in the blanket. The apartment around me was an open floor plan and the small living room with the plush furniture that I was in spilled easily into a newly furnished kitchen with shiny new appliances and a colorfully rich backsplash over the stove. There were no pictures that I could see, though there was a small hallway lit by bright overhead lights directly ahead of me, and the door to the outside seemed to be on my right. There were big windows overlooking the city to my left and when I stood up quickly from the couch, I jumped at the cold hardwood beneath my toes, nearly bumping into the coffee table as I flinched.
“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” said a familiar voice behind me. “Here are some socks, I know I don’t like to walk around in here without them.”
Connor Lennox came striding out of one of the doors in the hallway, dressed in sweats and a seemingly well-loved hockey t-shirt with holes at the hem. His blonde hair was messy, and his smile was sincere as he handed over a pair of thick, overly large socks. I took them, pulling them over my toes and letting out a breath of relief at the warmth they offered me. There was a hole in the toe of Connor’s own sock, and it was strangely endearing. I would have never imagined him looking so languid and relaxed with his shirt untucked. How scandalous of him.
“Thank you, they’re perfect,” I told him. Now, how in the actual hell did I get here on his couch in the first place? I remembered being at the diner and then going to Oliver’s shop late into the night, and then there was nothing at all. “How did… how did we—” I started helplessly, looking around and finding my shoes right next to his by the door like they belonged there.
“How did you get here?” Connor asked me helpfully, heading to the fridge to pull out a carton of fresh eggs. “You fell asleep in the car last night without giving me your address, so I told Nora to just drop us off here. I hope that’s okay. I didn’t know what else to do but wake you up.”
“That’s—” I began, moving to the kitchen to sit on one of the leather stools at the island counter. “Yeah, that’s okay. Thank you, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I don’t know what happened.”
Connor shrugged lazily, cracking eggs into a bowl and pulling a bag of smooth bacon from the fridge drawer. “It’s not a big deal. You feeling hungry?”
I nodded in answer, watching him cut up pieces of greasy bacon and toss them into the skillet with the cooking eggs. The bacon sizzled in the pan, sending a fragrant smell of yummy food into the air. I felt warmth and happiness flow through me as he flipped the batter of the eggs. Sitting there watching him felt so domestic, so right, that I sighed in contentment before I caught myself and I tried to play it off by coughing. Connor didn’t turn around, thankfully too caught up in cooking breakfast for us. He finished the huge omelet with a cup of cheddar cheese and mushrooms dusted over the top, and then flipped the whole thing on a plate, serving me a large, fluffy half in a bowl. “Eat up.”
“Wow—it’s amazing,” I told him, trying not to talk with my mouth full but failing as I shoved more of the delicious, cheesy, mushroom eggs into my mouth. I had never in my life tasted something so good, at least not something made in a home kitchen. I was pleasantly surprised that Connor Lennox was such a great cook. “Thank you, really.”