Nicole Harper
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I chuckled. Tristan loved challenges way too much and was always down to prove me wrong whenever I did challenge him.
Instead of responding to him, I slipped away and grabbed my mug from the counter. “I haven’t eaten this morning,” I informed him. I’d just woken up when I suddenly heard a knock on the door.
“Want me to get takeout?”
I shook my head and took a gulp of my coffee, the bitter liquid waking me up more properly. I lived in his house for more than four months and I never once saw him in the kitchen, even if it was only to boil an egg. However, he’d cooked in my apartment three days ago after bending me over the counter and I was greedy enough to want it again.
Tristan sighed. It was his fault for showing off in front of me that he could indeed cook and jus
