Zane Cyrus is a moody boxer from England. He hates small talk, fake politeness, happiness and most of all he hates it when people can't mind their own business.
Calista-Mae is the epitome of sweet. She cares deeply for those around her and will go...
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CALISTA
I WAKE up naked and alone.
I glance at the empty spot next to me, only to find a handwritten note.
Goodmorning angel, I'm in the kitchen making us breakfast. Come see me when you finally wake up.
Smiling I place the note in my phone case before slipping on his white button up and tying my hair up into a messy ponytail so that it's out of my face. I rub my eyes as I walk into the kitchen and I'm yawning just as Zane comes into view.
He's wearing a pair of black sweatpants low on his hips and his hair is wet, he must have had a shower.
"Hey sweetheart, you made good timing. Everything's just finished cooking." Zane tells me and I nod, walking over to get a drink but before I can a cup of tea is placed in my hands.
I look up at him. "You're awfully chipper this morning."
"I slept well."
My brows raise teasingly. "Did you now?"
"Mhm." He hums, kissing my forehead and handing me a cooked breakfast. I stand there for a moment, dazed. Who knew Zane was such husband material?
"You know I'm going to see my family this weekend." I tell him as we eat and he nods.
"How are you getting there? Flying or driving."
"Well, flying is expensive and driving is long and boring. I still haven't decided yet."
"Where did you say your parents lived again?" Zane questions from beside me.
"Washington."
Zane still for a moment, "Funnily enough I actually have a work trip this weekend. I'm visiting a company down in Washington to help with their software. We could drive together?"
I smile, "Really? That would be great!"
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
I greet Zane with a smile as I climb into his car. "Hey."
His deep, smooth voice that I've grown to find much comfort in replies instantly, "Goodmorning Cal."
Zane starts driving and I admire him secretly.
"I can feel you staring at me angel." He mutters without taking his eyes off the road and I roll my eyes, huffing in order to calm my blush that arose from getting caught.
"I was not."
"Don't lie." He tuts. "You're a bad liar."
"Am not!" I retort as the car stops for a red light. I watch as he stretches back, his black t-shirt lifting to show a slither of his tanned v-line and I force my eyes back to his face.
