when they call my name | ✔ [𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐

alexandria

Trouble always happens when chaos feels like a fever dream.

The crisp morning air settles in my lungs, the morning sun filtering through the curtains. Stretching my arms over my head, I shuffle out of bed and slide into my robe and matching slippers.

For once, there is no noise. No strange knocks at the door, no cryptic conversations I can't follow, and no men disrupting my perfectly cultivated sense of peace.

It's just me, the sound of birds outside, and the smell of coffee brewing.

I savor the moment when the front door opens, causing me to nearly drop the pot.

Christian strides in as if he owns the place, a McDonald's bag dangling in one hand and a shameless grin plastered on his face.

"What are you doing here?" I demand.

He looks at me as if I've asked him why the sky is blue. "Getting breakfast." He shakes the bag. "You don't exactly keep the kitchen stocked, angel."

I glare at him and gesture to my cup. "Coffee is fuel. Ever heard of it?"

Christian snorts. "You need real food." He sets the bag on the counter.

I cross my arms. "So, is this your thing? Feed the girl you screwed around with?"

He doesn't miss a beat. "Only the ones who moan my name like a prayer," he says.

I roll my eyes, mostly so I don't melt right here in front of him. "You're unbelievable."

His grin is slow and smug. "Would you like a reminder?"

"Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

He smirks around a bite of the hash brown. "I mean, it's one way to make sure you don't ever forget about me."

"Christian, forgetting you would be a blessing,"

"Ah, but blessings are boring," he responds, leaning against the counter. "I'm the most exciting thing that's ever happened to your dull little routine."

My eye twitches. "Exciting is not the word I'd use. Annoying, maybe."

He winks. "Lucky for you, annoying and exciting go hand in hand. You're welcome."

I narrow my eyes, torn between a snarky comment and an acknowledgement that he might be right.

As I pivot, the toe of my slipper catches on the rug, and I'm stumbling backward. Christian's arm wraps around me, catching me before I can hit the ground. He slams his other hand on the counter for balance, his grip strong enough to steady us both.

"Whoa, angel," he says, amused. "I'm all for dramatic exits, but maybe try not to break your neck in the process?"

My arms hold around his neck, holding on tight as I try to regain my balance and my dignity.

"I-uh-" I stammer, heat rushing to my face as I step back. "I'm fine. Totally fine."

Christian observes me. "You sure? Want me to bubble-wrap the apartment before we head out?"

"Funny," I mutter, smoothing my robe as if it might fix my bruised pride.

"Go get dressed," he says. "I've got a meeting and rehearsal at The Whiskey."

I brush my hair out of my face, hoping that my fall will fade from both of our memories.

"I'm being serious," he repeats. "Go get ready. You have to come with me."