The Baddest Bad Boy

“Leave them,” he chuckles, causing me to jump.

I spin towards the kitchen. “What?”

The gorgeous alpha merely grins. “I think they make for great decoration, don’t you think? Leave the panties there.”

Oh my God, I’m mortified. Not just because these are a tiny little pink pair that are sheer and gauzy, but also because I remember how damp the gusset was. I can’t believe Troy wants me to leave my panties hanging for anyone to see! Of course, It’s not like I get many visitors, but still. Proof of our romp last night is right there, front and center.

“Is it okay if we eat on the couch?” Troy asks, one brow quirked.

Quickly, I try to calm down, although I can still see a wisp of pink lace from the corner of my eye. “Sure, because there’s not really anywhere else. I’m working on getting chairs for the kitchen area, seeing that I just moved in. Little by little.”

Troy nods, arranging everything on the coffee table.

“Your apartment feels homey, though, and very comfortable. You should see mine. That place looks like an impersonal hotel room, I’ve put so little effort into it.”

Is that an invitation for me to visit? My cheeks go pink, but I decide not to answer instead of getting my hopes up. After all, who knows where we’re going? Maybe he flies out of town again tonight, and I won’t see him for months after.

“Alright, breakfast is served,” Troy announces proudly, surveying the spread on the coffee table with satisfaction. “Help yourself, sweetheart. Eat up.”

I begin to scoop scrambled eggs onto my plate.

“Mmm, this all looks so good. Thank you so much for cooking. You really didn’t have to.”

Troy grins. “Yeah, but I enjoyed it. Do you have syrup?”

I nod.

“Yes, here, let me grab it. I have orange juice too, if you’d like that along with the coffee.”

He nods.

“Orange juice would be great. Thanks babe.”

My cheeks go pink again at the endearment because we’re so comfortable with one another. It’s almost as if we’ve been dating for years, or even married for decades. Holy cow! Where is my mind going with this?

I force myself to think of other things while filling two glasses with OJ. Meanwhile, Troy digs around for utensils in the kitchen, and begins to lay them out on the coffee table. We’re working like a well-oiled machine, our familiarity soothing. I could get used to having breakfast with him, but then again, that’s dangerous. I shouldn’t get too comfortable because we barely know one another.

But Troy has no idea what’s circling in my brain.

“So,” he says as we sit down once more. “You said you just moved in. Where did you live before?”

I flush. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Try me. I won’t judge.”

“I was still living with my parents.”

He grins while taking a huge bite of toast.

“Plenty of people live with their parents until well into their thirties these days.”

“Well, I was living with my parents and my three brothers, so it was a madhouse. Why, when did you leave?”

He nods thoughtfully.

“Well, it was a little different in my case. You know Travis and I grew up in foster care, right?”

My eyes widen. “What? I had no idea,” I gasp. “Caitlin never mentioned it.”

He shrugs, eyes on his food.

“Yeah, it’s not the happiest story, but suffice to say, our biological parents were drug addicts, so Children’s Services took over. We bounced around a lot, and some places were better than others. The government tried to keep me and my brother together, I’ll give them that.”

My heart sinks. No wonder Travis is so insistent on giving his daughter the most stable life possible. He wants to make sure Peony grows up better than he did, and that she has a happy life. I look down, suddenly ashamed of complaining about my crowded home.

“I’m really sorry to hear that that.”

Troy shrugs and flashes me a grin. “It’s fine. I didn’t have a bad time because honestly, I didn’t know what “normal” was. If anything, it was good for me to get out of my parents’ house because of the chaos there. But what sucked is that I did lose touch with Travis during the process, and we only reconnected recently. That was really hard.”

I nod.

“Caitlin did say something about that. She said that Travis is really grateful that you’re back in his life.”

“And I’m grateful to be back in his,” Troy responds in a light tone. Then, he turns to me.

“How about you, sweetheart? Did you have a happy childhood?”

Again, I feel ashamed of my previous complaining, so I merely nod.

“Yes. It was crowded and busy with four kids, but my parents adored all of us and made sure we knew.” Then, in an effort to change the subject, I take a bite of the food in front of me and groan.