Hookup ✓ [MikhAiah] [Book #3]

35

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AIRA's POV

My eyes jolt open to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, and the first thing I see is Miki's sleeping figure beside me. A few dark strands of her hair have fallen across her face, and I can't help but smile. She stayed the night here, too—she must have been worried. There's a gentle warmth blooming in my chest, and I can't help but wonder, What do you really think of me, Miki?

I sit up slowly, careful not to wake her, but a sharp headache shoots up the back of my head, making me wince. Ah, right. I drank last night. Now I'm paying for it.

"Good morning." A deep voice interrupts my thoughts. I turn to see Miki looking at me, a lazy smile on her lips as she sits up.

"Morning..." I mumble, trying to sound as energetic as she is.

"I figured you'd get a headache," she says, nodding toward the bedside table, where a glass of juice and a small packet of pills sit. "I ordered some room service for you. This should help."

She's so thoughtful; it reminds me of the morning I woke up at her apartment. With a hum, I take the pill and the juice, washing down the bitter taste with the sweet, cool drink.

"Are you hungry?" she asks, as I set the glass back down.

"There's nothing to eat here, Miki. I'll just call room service—"

Before I can finish, she clears her throat, holding up a keycard with a mischievous grin. "I may or may not have gone out early to buy something for us."

"Really? You shouldn't have—" I start, but she interrupts again, reaching for my arm and pulling me up from the bed.

"Come on, get up. I'm cooking for you," she says with a childlike eagerness, as if she's excited to show off something special. I can't help but smile back, letting her guide me out of the bedroom. Her hand slips into mine as we head down the stairs, a gesture so gentle yet intentional. She's really trying to lift my spirits, and I feel lighter, even if just a little.

We reach the kitchen, and she helps me sit on the counter as she begins pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator. I can't hide my surprise. "Did you... go on a shopping spree?" I ask, watching her unload fresh pasta, cream, cheese, and other ingredients.

She flashes me a grin and shrugs. "Maybe."

I watch her work, moving around the kitchen with such ease, chopping vegetables, sautéing, and preparing the pasta. She's focused, precise, and there's something incredibly cool about the way she does it. I shake my head slightly, trying to clear the thought that sneaks into my mind: Whoever ends up with her someday is going to be so lucky.

After a little while, she places a plate of steaming carbonara in front of me, along with another glass of fresh juice. "Here. Let's eat," she says, sitting across from me with her own plate.

I nod and dig in, taking my first bite. The creamy pasta, perfectly seasoned, melts in my mouth. "Wow," I murmur, wiping a bit of sauce from the corner of my lips.

Miki raises an eyebrow. "I'm guessing that's a good wow?"

"Definitely. It's like having my own private chef," I joke, and she laughs softly, her eyes twinkling with pride.