Melia’s Point of View
I am halfway through my first cup of coffee when the doorbell rings. I frown, glancing at the clock. It is barely nine.
When I open the door, Alex is standing there, grinning, a tray with two cups of coffee in one hand and a grocery bag in the other.
“Alex,” I say, surprised. “This is a surprise. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
He lifts the bag slightly. “Well, I thought I could come cook you some breakfast.”
He says grinning at me.I blink at him, then smile. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he says, stepping inside. “You have been living off takeout and cereal, haven’t you?”
I laugh. “Maybe.”
He gives me a knowing look. “Definitely.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. Maybe a little.”
He grins. “Exactly why I am here. Move, chef duties are mine today.”
I gesture toward the kitchen.
