I kiss him on the cheek and fold his arm over me as I snuggle against him. I wait to see if he speaks again, but he doesn’t. He just sleeps.
???
I was awake by seven, but Ridge was still asleep. He woke up sometime in the middle of the night and took off his jeans and shoes, but then went right back to sleep.
I was making a pot of coffee when Warren walked out of his bedroom and told me to stop. “I’m treating you to breakfast, remember?” Then he went to wake up Ridge, but Ridge told him he needed two more hours of sleep.
“Let’s let him sleep,” I said. “Let me go change out of my pajamas and we can go.”
Warren told me no, that the place we’re going to eat actually requires pajamas.
I have no idea where we’re going, but Bridgette wanted to sleep in, so now it’s just me and Warren, going to breakfast in our pajamas to celebrate Bridgette’s negative pregnancy test. Without Bridgette.
Nope. Not weird at all.
“Did this restaurant just open?” I ask Warren. “Is that why I’ve never heard of it?” He told me earlier it was called Fastbreak Breakfast, but it doesn’t sound familiar.
“We’re not going to a restaurant.”
I glare at him from the passenger seat, just as he pulls into the driveway of a hotel and drives around to the side of the building. “Wait here,” he says, hopping out of the car. He takes his keys with him.
I sit and watch him as he stands next to the side entrance to the hotel. I start to text Ridge to ask him what the hell I’ve just gotten myself into, but before I can type out the text, a businessman walks out of the side door and doesn’t even notice as Warren grabs the door handle and holds the door open. He waves me out of the car, so I get out and follow him inside, shaking my head. It’s finally registered why he told me to wear pajamas. Because he wants it to look like we’re guests here.
“Are you kidding me, Warren? We’re sneaking into a free continental breakfast?”
He smiles. “Oh, it’s not just any free breakfast, Sydney. They have Texas-shaped waffles here.”
I can’t believe this is his idea of treating people to breakfast. “This is stealing,” I whisper, just as we walk into the breakfast area. He reaches for a plate and hands it to me, then grabs his own.
“Maybe so. But it doesn’t count against your track record because I’m the one who brought you here.”
We make our plates and take a seat at an area by the window that’s not visible to the front desk. For the first ten minutes, Warren talks about school, since I was so intrigued by the idea of him actually sitting in a study group. He’s majoring in management, which is something else that intrigues me. Baffles me, even. I can’t imagine him in a position where he’s in charge of other people, but I guess he does manage Sounds of Cedar pretty well.
I don’t think I give Warren enough credit. He has a job, he goes to school full time, he manages a successful local band, and he manages to keep Bridgette somewhat happy. I guess it’s just his addiction to porn and his inability to clean up after himself that leads me to assume he’s got a lot of growing up to do.
When we’re finished eating, Warren grabs a tray and piles muffins and juices on it, then brings it back to the table. “For Ridge and Bridgette,” he says, covering the muffins with a napkin.
“How often do you come here? You seem to be experienced in the art of breakfast theft.”
“Not very often. I have a few hotels around town that I frequent, but I try to mix it up every now and then. Don’t want the desk clerks becoming suspicious.”
I laugh, sipping the last of my orange juice.
“Ridge has never been on board. You know how he is, always trying to do the right thing. Maggie came with me a few times, though. She liked the thrill of possibly getting caught. She’s actually why I call it fastbreak breakfast. We had to make a break for it once because a clerk walked around, writing down room numbers and checking them to last names.”
I look down when he says Maggie’s name, not wanting to hear how good of friends he is with her. Not that I care if Warren and Maggie are friends. I just don’t want to hear about it. Especially this early in the morning.
He notices my reaction, because he leans forward and folds his arms over the table. He tilts his head in thought. “Our friendship with her really bothers you, huh?”
I shake my head. “Not as much as you probably think. What bothers me is how much Ridge stresses about it.”