Chapter 19

But I do. God, I do.

Greg sets his mug down on the bedside table and starts in on his waffles. He seems blissfully unaware of how much I want him right now—of how sexy he looks in the morning light, comfy and familiar, his skin golden, his hair like sunlight. When he catches me staring, he grins around a mouthful of food and a dab of dark syrup dribbles down the corner of his mouth. I want to kiss it away

I settle for using a napkin, which he takes from me to wipe his lips. “Thanks.”

“Habit,” I say. “Cleaning up after a seven-year-old boy is a full-time job in and of itself.”

Greg swallows his food, then chases the waffles with a swig of coffee. “Tell me about it. I have a roomful of seven-year-olds to look after. I love them all, I do, but when that last bell rings, I swear I’m as ready to run home as they are.”

Speaking of Tyler…I start and turn towards the bedside table to check the alarm clock. “What time is it?”