Home > All Your Perfects(19)

All Your Perfects(19)
Author: Colleen Hoover

I doubt he finds much. I don’t keep a lot of groceries at my house because I rarely cook since I live alone.

I step into the shower. I have no idea if he’s staying after breakfast, but while I shower, I make sure to pay special attention to certain areas just in case.

I’ve been in the shower all of three minutes when I hear the bathroom door open.

“You don’t have anything to eat.”

The sound of his voice in my bathroom surprises me so much, I almost slip and fall. I grip the shower bar and steady myself, but immediately let go of the bar and cover my breasts when I see the shower curtain move.

Graham peeks his head inside the shower. He looks straight at my face and nowhere else, but I’m still doing everything I can to shield myself.

“You have absolutely no food. Crackers and a stale box of cereal.” He says this like it’s not at all unusual that he’s looking at me naked. “Want me to go grab breakfast?”

“Um . . . okay.” I’m wide-eyed, still shocked from his confident intrusion.

Graham grins, pulling his bottom lip in with his teeth. His eyes begin to slowly trail down my body. “My God, Quinn,” he whispers. He closes the shower curtain and says, “I’ll be back in a little while.” Right before he walks out of my bathroom I hear him whisper, “Fuck.”

I can’t help but smile. I love how that just made me feel.

I turn back around and face the shower spray as I close my eyes and let the warm water beat down on my face. I can’t figure Graham out. He’s just the right amount of confident and cocky. But he balances that out with his reverent side. He’s funny and smart and he comes on way too strong, but it all feels genuine.

Genuine.

If I had to describe him in one word, that would be it.

It surprises me because I never thought of Ethan as genuine. There was always a part of me that felt his seeming perfection was part of an act. Like he had been taught how to say all the right things but it wasn’t inherent with him. It was as if he studied how to be the version of himself he presented to everyone.

But with Graham, I have a feeling he’s been who he is all his life.

I wonder if I’ll learn to trust him. After what I went through with Ethan, I’ve felt like that would never happen.

When I’m finished in the shower, I dry off and pull on a T-shirt and a pair of yoga pants. I have no idea if Graham has intentions of hanging out today, but until I find that out, I’ll be dressing for comfort.

When I walk back into the bedroom, I grab my phone off the nightstand and notice several missed texts.

I saved my contact in your phone. This is Graham. Your soul mate.

What do you want for breakfast?

McDonald’s? Starbucks? Donuts?

Are you still in the shower?

Do you like coffee?

I can’t stop thinking about you in the shower.

Okay, then. I’ll get bagels.

I’m in my bedroom hanging up laundry when I hear Graham walk through the front door. I walk to the living room and he’s at the table, laying out breakfast. A lot of breakfast.

“You didn’t specify what you wanted, so I got everything.”

My eyes scan the box of donuts, the McDonald’s, the Chick-fil-A. He even got bagels. And Starbucks. “Are you trying to replicate the breakfast scene from Pretty Woman when Richard Gere orders everything off the menu?” I smile and take a seat at the table.

He frowns. “You mean this has been done before?”

I take a bite of a glazed donut. “Yep. You’re gonna have to be more original if you want to impress me.”

He sits down across from me and pulls the lid off a Starbucks cup. He licks the whipped cream. “I guess I’ll have to cancel the white limo that’s supposed to pull up to your fire escape this afternoon.”

I laugh. “Thank you for breakfast.”

He leans back in his seat, placing the lid back on his coffee. “What are your plans today?”

I shrug. “It’s Saturday. I’m off work.”

“I don’t even know what you do for a living.”

“I write for an advertising firm downtown. Nothing impressive.”

“Nothing about you is unimpressive, Quinn.”

I ignore his compliment. “What about you?”

“Nothing impressive. I’m an accountant for a company downtown.”

“A math guy, huh?”

“My first choice was an astronaut, but the idea of leaving the earth’s atmosphere is kind of terrifying. Numbers don’t really pose a threat to my life, so I went with that.” He opens one of the bags and pulls out a biscuit. “I think we should have sex tonight.” He takes a bite of the biscuit. “All night,” he says with a mouthful.

I almost choke on the bite I just swallowed. I pull the extra coffee toward me and take a sip. “You do, huh? What’s so different about tonight than last night?”

He tears off a piece of the biscuit and pops it into his mouth. “I was being polite last night.”

“So your politeness is just a façade?”

“No, I really am a decent guy. But I’m also extremely attracted to you and want to see you naked again.” He smiles at me. It’s a shy smile and it’s so cute, it makes me smile.

“Some men get cheated on and they become revengeful. You get cheated on and become brutally honest.”

He laughs, but he doesn’t bring up the potential sex again. We both eat in silence for a minute and then he says, “What’d you do with your engagement ring?”

“I mailed it to Ethan’s mother.”

“What’d you do with the one I left here?”

A reserved smile creeps across my lips. “I kept it. Sometimes I wear it. It’s pretty.”

He watches me for a moment and then he says, “You want to know what I kept?”

I nod.

“Our fortunes.”

It takes me a moment before I realize what he’s talking about. “From the Chinese food and infidelity?”

“Yep.”

“You kept those?”

“Sure did.”

“Why?”

“Because.” He looks down at his coffee and moves the cup in small circles. “If you saw what was on the back of them, you wouldn’t be questioning it.”

I lean back in my seat and eye him suspiciously. Ethan and I got those fortune cookies all the time. I know exactly what’s on the back of them because I always thought it was odd. Most fortunes have a set of numbers, but this place only puts a single number on the fortunes. “The backs of those fortune cookies just have a number on them.”

“Yep.” He has a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

I tilt my head. “What? Did they have the same number or something?”

He looks at me seriously. “The number eight.”

I hold his stare and think about that for a few seconds. Last night he asked me the date. August 8.

8/8.

The day we reconnected.

“Are you serious?”

Graham holds his resolve for a moment, but then he relaxes and lets out a laugh. “I’m kidding. Yours had a seven on the back of it and mine had like a five or something.” He stands up and takes his trash to the kitchen. “I kept them because I’m a neat freak and I didn’t like littering on the floor of the hallway. I forgot they were in my pocket until I got home that night.”

I wonder how much of that is true. “Do you really still have them, though?”

He steps on the trash can lever and the lid pops open. “Of course.” He walks back to the table and pulls me out of my chair. He slides his arms around my waist and kisses me. It’s a sweet kiss and he tastes like caramel and sugar. He moves his mouth to my cheek and kisses it, then pulls me against his chest. “You know I’m only teasing you, right? I don’t actually believe we’ll spend the rest of our lives together. Yet.”

I kind of like his teasing. A lot. I open my mouth to respond to him, but his phone rings. He holds up a finger and pulls it out of his pocket, then immediately answers it. “Hey, beautiful,” he says. He covers his phone and whispers, “It’s my mother. Don’t freak out.”

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