Chapter 198: Chapter Thirty-Six

Priscilla

I woke up tangled in Jaymeson's arms, cocooned in his warmth — he was so dang warm — so comfortable I didn't ever want to leave his embrace.

A blinking light on my phone caught my eye.

Putting off the bathroom visit, I snatched my phone up and saw a few missed calls from my dad and then some random number I'd never seen before. I quickly listened to the messages and smiled.

“Hey, honey, just hanging out, shooting the breeze. Being awesome. Thought I'd talk to my other favorite daughter. We'll see you in a few days! Love you, sweetie!

The next two were warnings about not giving away my rose to a boy who didn't like flowers, and the next one had something to do with pie.

Parents were weird.

“I must breakfast you now,” Jaymeson announced when I sat back on the bed. “Or so help me God, I will be the worst boyfriend in the history of the universe.”

“Aw, how cute. You've been drinking already.”

“Not true!” Jaymeson shot out of bed, his hair a spiky mess, and his cheeks flushed.

How the heck was it fair that he looked like that? And I looked like I got run over by two trucks while I was sleeping?

“Breakfast for the fair lady.”

“You're weird.”

He shrugged. “Part of my charm.”

I nodded and looked away. Was he really my boyfriend? Were we doing this?

“Pris…” Jaymeson's arms came around me as he pressed a kiss to the back of my head. “Don't freak out but…”

My heart started hammering in my chest.

“…I want to take you on the best date in the history of dates. I want to fly you to London.

“I want to go to France, and I want to sit at the Taj Mahal and kiss you as the sun sets…” He cleared his throat.

I laughed and nodded. “Yeah. But only after you make me breakfast.”

“Demanding little wench.”

“Yup.”

He squeezed his arms around me and kissed my head again, then rose up from the bed and walked to the door.

When he opened it, Demetri was standing on the other side. A frying pan in his hand and a glare across his ridiculously handsome face.

“What are your intentions, sir?” Demetri asked.

Jaymeson crossed his arms. “Breakfast.”

“Will there be… eggs?” Demetri coughed. “For breakfast?”

“Probably.”

“Will they be scrambled? Please say no, please say no.”

“Stop speaking in metaphors, jackass, and help me feed the women.”

Demetri peered around Jaymeson and, apparently seeing that I was fully clothed and not taken advantage of, seemed to be satisfied and followed my boyfriend into the kitchen.

My boyfriend.

Yeah, I would never get tired of saying that. Ever.