Chapter 317: The Struggles of Having a Hot Ex

He laughed so hard that he had to take a moment to sip some water, while Damien, the absolute fuck ass troublemaker, just smiled like someone who had just received praise for a completely mundane business presentation.

"I appreciate that, sir," he replied, calm as ever.

"Don’t encourage him!" I snapped back.

Damien slid a plate in front of me. "I made yours without the mushrooms."

"Thanks," I said quietly, taking my seat.

Dad was watching me with a knowing smile. "You’re welcome, sweetheart."

"I said thank you to Damien, not you."

"Of course you did."

I picked up my fork and forced myself to focus on my breakfast, determined not to give either of them the satisfaction of seeing how much I appreciated the gesture.

Unfortunately, the food was fantastic.

The pancakes were fluffy, the eggs were seasoned just right, and the coffee was brewed exactly how I liked it. Even the fruit was so neatly arranged that I felt a little guilty for digging in, though that feeling faded after the first few bites.

"This is good," I admitted grudgingly.

Damien raised an eyebrow. "Just good?"

"Don’t push your luck."

Dad chuckled. "It’s wonderful, Damien. You should come cook for us every morning."

"I’d be happy to."

I nearly choked on my coffee. "Every morning?"

"Would that be a problem?" Damien asked, looking innocent.

"Yes. Some of us like our kitchens to be less... restaurant-like."

Dad pointed at the spotless counters. "I don’t see a problem."

"That’s because you’re not the one living through it."

Damien leaned back in his chair, looking way too satisfied with himself. "I’ll make sure to keep the kitchen clean."

"That’s not what I meant."

"I know."

I stared at him for a moment before returning to my breakfast, quietly wondering how he could be so infuriating yet so hard to dislike all at once.

By the end of my meal, Dad had complimented Damien’s cooking at least three more times and somehow invited him to prepare dinner too.

I was starting to think Dad might be planning to actually adopt Damien... not as a joke anymore, he was just waiting for the right paperwork to come through.

I gathered my stuff and stood up, eager to escape before the conversation turned to wedding plans. "I should head out."

Dad looked up. "Already?"

"Yep. I have classes, Dad."

"Right. Have a good day, Ollie."

"Thanks."

Damien stood too, moving over to help with my bag, though I quickly grabbed it before he could make it seem too domestic. "I can carry my own things."

"I know you can."

"Then stop trying to carry them."

He smiled a little. "Have a good day, Oliver."

I hesitated for a moment, then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before I could think better of it.

His expression softened, and I instantly regretted giving him another reason to look at me like that. He chuckled softly, and I turned toward the door before Dad could say anything else about how adorable we were.

Unfortunately, Dad’s voice followed me all the way to the entrance.

"Don’t forget to call your husband or me if you’re going to be late!"

"DAD!"

His laughter echoed through the house as I hurried outside, my face burning so hot I was surprised the morning air didn’t turn to steam upon touching my skin.

I was starting to get why some people moved away from their parents after marriage.

By the time I reached St. Jude University, I managed to regain most of my composure, though the memory of Dad’s comments kept popping into my mind whenever I thought about the previous evening.

I spent the morning dealing with my usual job responsibilities...reviewing student assignments, answering emails, prepping lecture materials, chatting fellow assistant lecturers in the staff room, all while trying not to think about the fact that Damien was likely still at home, possibly planning another elaborate meal or finding new ways to make himself freaking indispensable.

It was becoming a somewhat alarming pattern.

He had just come back into my life, yet somehow, he was already blending into my daily routine. He was there when I woke up, there when I came downstairs, and increasingly present during the quiet moments I had once cherished alone.

I wasn’t quite sure how to handle that.

Part of me wanted to enjoy it without second-guessing everything, while another part kept reminding me that the last time I let myself depend on Damien, I spent years trying to heal from his absence.

I was still mulling that over when my final class of the day wrapped up.

The students started packing up, chatting among themselves as they made their way to the door. I was standing near the front of the room, gathering my notes and reminding a few students about an upcoming assignment when I saw a familiar figure in the doorway.

At first, I barely noticed him, then I looked up.

And totally lost my train of thought.

Damien was standing in the entrance, decked out in a sharp charcoal suit that fit him like it was custom-mad, looking so damn good, it was almost unfair on my poor heart. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the jacket nicely tailored around his broad shoulders, and his hair was styled as if he had just walked out of a magazine ad for affluent men with zero financial concerns.

In one hand, he held a big bouquet of flowers wrapped in elegant cream paper. In the other hand, he had a takeaway coffee cup.

Several students slowed down immediately.

One girl near the door whispered to her friend, who shot a glance from Damien to me, clearly intrigued. Another student, who had already reached the hallway, stopped dead in his tracks to get a better look.

"Oh my god...who the hell is that hottie super-model?! He looks so familiar too!"

"Chloe, what you should be asking is who are those flowers for?!"

I just stood there, gaping at Damien with my heart skipping a beat for the hundredth time since Damien waltz right back into my life.

Oh...holy fucking crap. What the hell was he up to now?!

Why couldn’t he just gave me a break for like twelve hours? What the fuck had I done to deserve this really?

He smiled and I wanted to fling my notes at his gorgeous face.

"What the hell are you doing here, this time?" I whisper-yelled, my voice too low for the remaining students to hear.

Damien strolled into the classroom like he owned the place. "I missed you."

I blinked, then glanced at the clock on the wall. It had barely been five hours since I left the fucking house. "Damien, I’ve been gone for five hours."

"Yes."

I stared at him, waiting for a punchline, but he looked completely serious as he approached me. When he stopped in front of my desk, he leaned in a bit, getting closer to my ear.

"Five hours is much too long without my little Sunshine," he whispered. "Don’t you agree?"

My brain just short-circuited. I straightened up so quickly I almost knocked over my stack of papers, and Damien’s quiet amusement didn’t help calm my nerves.

"You’re unbelievable," I said, a bit breathless.

He held out the coffee and I snatched it from him, needing something to do with my hands before I accidentally hit him.

"What’s the deal with the flowers?" I asked, glancing at the big bouquet. "Already planning your funeral?"

He chuckled softly. "They’re for you."

I looked at the flowers, then back at him. "Why?"

"Do I need a reason to bring you flowers?"

"Considering you showed up at my workplace looking like you just escaped from a lavish wedding catalogue... yes, I think you do need a reason."

His smile grew wider. "I promised you something."