Single And In Love With My Fake Boyfriend (Single Girls Club #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Callie

When I wake up this time, I know exactly where I am. In Lincoln’s apartment, in his bed. Not his bed! His guestroom bed.

I stretch my arms over my head, straining my ears to hear if the rain has stopped. It hasn’t. It’s just as strong as it was last night. Dang. So much for the weather letting up.

A smell enters my nose. Eggs and pancakes. Is Lincoln making breakfast?

I get out of bed, use the bathroom, and the toothbrush Lincoln gave me last night. I don’t have a brush, so I use my fingers to make myself look somewhat decent. Once I’m satisfied, I leave the bathroom and make my way to the kitchen.

Peering inside, I see Lincoln at the stove, sure enough making breakfast. He turns at the exact time I enter the kitchen and I stop in place when I notice he’s not wearing a shirt.

I can’t help but stare. The man has a massive, muscular chest, with a six-pack as well. It’s so beautiful that all my manners fly out the window and I gawk at it like I’ve never seen a naked chest before.

Of course I have seen naked male chests before, but none as sexy as the man standing before me. I could stare at him all day…

Blinking, I get a hold of myself and focus on his face. His face. His face .

“Good morning, Callie,” he says with his usual warm smile that makes me turn to mush. “Hungry? I made breakfast.”

I gape at the spread on the table. He cooked such a variety of food, it makes my head spin. “This looks amazing. But I thought you can’t cook?”

He chuckles. “I can’t, but I found a cookbook and decided to follow it.” He shrugs. “Not sure how everything tastes, but I didn’t burn the house down.”

“Yeah…” My eyes shoot to his chest again. No wonder I always feel so protected in his arms. Who knew that under his T-shirt was such a beautiful specimen of man chest?

Gosh. I’m objectifying him. I really shouldn’t do that.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though. I can see the proud, satisfied smile on his face as he watches me practically salivating over him.

He steps closer to me, holding out his hand. “Come, let’s eat.”

I peek at the time on the oven. It’s after ten. “How long have you been up? Sorry I overslept.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m glad you slept in. I woke up about an hour ago and attempted all this.” He gestures at the table.

I place my hand in his and he leads me to the table. There’s so much heat emanating from his chest and his smell is intoxicating.

We settle down across from each other. Mmm. It smells even better now that I’m so close to the food. And it all looks amazing. My eyes are devouring everything before my mouth does and they like it very much.

Lincoln watches me appreciate all the food and smiles. “So it looks like I won points for aesthetics. Let’s see how well I do with taste.”

“I’m sure it’s all delicious.”

We pack the different types of food onto our plates. My mouth waters just looking at the pancakes.

Lincoln lifts a brow at me as he raises his fork of eggs. “Well, here goes.” He takes a bite, thinks for a second as he tilts his head around, then swallows. “Hmm, not bad for my first time. It needs salt, though.”

I cut a piece of pancake and bring it to my lips. After pushing it into my mouth and chewing, my eyes widen. “These are so good!”

“Yeah?”

I cut another piece and take a bite. “If I had one criticism, I’d say they’re a bit thick, but they’re really so good.”

He takes a bite of pancake, too. “You’re right, they’re pretty good. A little thick, yeah, but I did okay for a newbie.”

I point my fork at him. “Are you considering a career change? I’m sure Alex can take you under her wing and make a chef out of you,” I tease.

He just laughs. “I think it’s best I stick with football.”

I taste the other food as well and compliment him on those, too. Everything he made is delicious, but his pancakes are the best.

“I’m stuffed,” I say as I lean back in my chair. “Thanks so much for all this. You’re making your guest very comfortable and happy.”

He bobs his head. “I’m glad. But I thought you’re not my guest but a refugee from the rain.”

I take another sip of orange juice. “Meh. Guest is fine. I get to be treated like a queen, right?” I joke.

“Of course you do. Whatever you need or want, just tell me and I’ll make it happen.”

“Thanks, but I was just kidding. You don’t have to go above and beyond just to make me comfortable.”

He grins. “Too late.”

I really love to see this playful side of him.

“By the way, I hope it’s okay that I put your clothes in the wash?” he asks. “I figured you can’t leave my house wearing my shirt.”

“Right. Of course not. Thanks for washing my clothes. I mean, no thanks. I’m not supposed to be thanking you all the time.”

“It’s my pleasure. They’re in the dryer right now and should be ready soon.”

I peer at the window. “Looks like the rain hasn’t stopped.”

He nods as he checks his phone. “They’re still telling everyone to stay indoors and that the flood watch is in effect until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Does that mean I’ll be spending another night here? The thought makes a thrill shoot through me. I don’t exactly want to go home yet…

Does he want me to stay another night?

He searches my eyes. “Sorry.”

“What for? You’re the perfect host.”

He smiles. “Thanks.”

Silence.

I look at him and he looks at me. I can’t understand what he’s thinking and wonder if he can determine what I’m thinking.

“Sorry if I’m a burden or if I’m intruding,” I say.

He holds up his hands. “Never. I’m glad to have you over…” He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I should clean up.”

“I’ll help you.”

As he passes a dirty dish to me, his hand brushes mine. A strong chill rushes down my back and I shiver. For some reason, his skin touching mine feels different. Which is weird because we’ve held hands many times. Maybe because it wasn’t intentional? Or because he just told me he likes having me over?

Did he mean as a friend?

There I go obsessing again. But can I really blame myself?