"Good morning, love birds. I brought breakfast in bed!"
The sound of Brooklyn's sing-songy greeting grated hard in my ears as it pulled the sleep from my eyes. I slowly opened one eye to see Lex sitting up and running his hands through his hair in annoyance. "That's not breakfast, Brooklyn. That's coffee."
I look to her to see her holding a drink holder with three coffees in it. Or, two coffees and what might as well be a milkshake.
"Same thing," she shrugs closing the door behind her and throwing her purse on the mahogany desk by the window.
"What time is it?" I ask, feeling like I was hit by a train. The blackout curtains in Lexington's room are quickly becoming one of my least favorite things. As an early riser that likes to run in the morning, I always feel lost at sea when I wake in his bed.
