Remy's POV I stood in Callum’s oversized, way-too-pristine kitchen wearing nothing but boxers and his shirt from last night. My hair was still damp from the shower. My stitches pulled slightly if I moved too fast, so I moved slow.I was craving pancakes. Callum didn’t seem like the type to own a pancake mix, but I found some hidden like contraband at the back of a cabinet. Fancy imported shit, too. Of course.I was halfway through whisking the batter when I heard his footsteps.“You’re up early.” His voice came low, still rough from sleep.“I couldn’t sleep well,” I said without turning to him. “Figured I’d cook. Might as well earn my keep.”His footsteps moved closer. I didn’t have to look to know he was standing behind me now, watching the slow whisk of batter, the easy stretch of my arms. His hand landed on my waist, fingers spreading with that same steady possessiveness he always carried, like touching me grounded something loose inside him.“You shouldn’t be on your feet too lon
Last Updated : 2025-07-27 Read more