AMY'S POV
I flipped the omelet with a smooth wrist, hips still shaking to the rhythm, and for an instant, I forgot where I was.
"What are you doing?" his deep husky voice, still laced with sleep, cut through from behind
I stopped.
Spatula in hand, music still blasting loudly. Messy hair. His sweatshirt drowning my body and his joggers hanging too low on my hips.
My Heart thudded against my chest.
I had been standing there stiffly, and I could feel Liam's eyes boring into my back.
I swallowed hard before slowly turning around to face him.
He was standing at the kitchen entrance, barefooted.
His brow furrowed and his eyes were half closed like he was forcing himself to stay awake with a messy hair on his head. He was wearing a fitted transparent white shirt that
