Chapter 16

With Monique’s help, we made our way into the kitchen, where she pulled out a chair for me before heading to the fridge. She moved with effortless grace, her bare feet soundless against the cool tile as she gathered yogurt, fruit, and orange juice.

“What do you normally have for breakfast, John?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at me.

“Coffee first. Then maybe some yogurt and fruit if I feel like eating.”

She gave me a mock-stern look. “You need something substantial to recover properly.”

“Fine,” I relented. “If you put some water in the kettle and set it to boil, I’ll get my coffee press ready.”

She did as I asked, but as we moved around each other in the small kitchen, I was aware of the way our bodies brushed, the way her scent—warm and faintly floral—wrapped around me. Everything about her presence felt natural, like she belonged here.

We lingered over breakfast, talking about nothing and everything. But beneath the light conversation, there was something unspoken between us—something inevitable. A conversation that needed to happen. I avoided it for now, but I knew we couldn’t ignore it forever.

After breakfast, I retreated to my home office, attempting to work on my computer. I lasted all of twenty minutes before my headache became unbearable. Staring at a screen clearly wasn’t a good idea.

Frustrated, I wandered into the living room, where Monique sat curled up on the couch, her laptop resting on her thighs. She looked completely absorbed, biting her lip in concentration.

“What are you working on?” I asked, easing down onto the couch beside her.

She glanced up, smiling. “A summer course. I’m getting ahead with my degree.”

I blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know you were taking extra classes.”

She nodded. “I’ve been taking a heavy course load and summer courses when possible, so I’ll graduate in December instead of next May.”

I must have looked shocked because she laughed, her eyes dancing with amusement.

“I was hoping to surprise you,” she admitted. “Did it work?”

“What do you mean?”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she held my gaze. “I was planning to surprise you at Christmas—wrapping a bow around myself and waiting under the tree with my degree in hand.”

The image hit me like a freight train. My mind immediately conjured the sight—Monique, wearing nothing but a ribbon, her dark eyes smoldering, her lips curved in that teasing, knowing smile.

Heat curled low in my belly, and I exhaled slowly, a smirk tugging at my lips. “I think that might be the best Christmas gift I’ll ever receive.”

She laughed, but there was a blush creeping along her collarbone now, a telltale sign that she knew exactly what she was doing to me.

As the teasing subsided, Monique shifted her focus back to preparing breakfast, moving around the kitchen with effortless grace. I watched her, entranced by the way she moved—confident, comfortable, utterly at home in my space. She had taken out a pan, setting it on the stove, and soon the scent of sizzling butter filled the air.

She hummed softly as she worked, her voice blending with the occasional clatter of dishes and the bubbling of coffee in the press. It was a simple meal—scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit—but the care she put into it made it feel like something more.

Once everything was ready, she brought our plates to the table and set my coffee in front of me before sitting down beside me rather than across. Her thigh pressed warmly against mine as she nudged my foot playfully under the table.

“Eat up,” she murmured, her dark eyes watching me closely. “You need to keep your strength up.”

I smirked, taking a sip of my coffee. “You just want me strong enough so I can properly appreciate all your teasing.”

She laughed, picking up a strawberry and bringing it to my lips. “That’s part of it.”

I took the bite, savouring the moment—the sweetness of the fruit, the closeness of her body, the way her fingers lingered near my mouth just a second too long. Breakfast was slow, filled with stolen touches and easy conversation, the kind of morning that made me realize just how much I loved having her here.