He took a sip of his coffee and kept staring.

She rambled. “I’m not saying I don’t want to have sex with you. I mean, I don’t. But it’s not because you’re not handsome enough.”

He had yet to blink.

“Even with the facial hair. Not that facial hair is bad.” It could be quite nice, especially trailing between her thighs. “It’s fine. You’re fine,” she blurted, cheeks blazing.

His lips quirked.

“I just... What’s in the bag?”

His grin managed to take him from sexy-hot to blazingly handsome. “Not a morning person. Noted.”

She groaned and dropped her head to the table. “It’s not even nine o’clock yet.”

“I’ve been up since six-thirty.”

She raised her head to glare at him, annoyed at the smirk that instead of making him annoying, turned him into a charmer.

“How about some donuts to make you smile?”

She perked up at that.

They ate donuts and drank coffee in a surprisingly comfortable silence while she woke up and tried to speak without sounding like a moron.

Before she could say anything, Xavier spoke first. “I’m really sorry for coming over too early. I felt bad about leaving a terrible first impression yesterday and wanted to make it right. I swear, I don’t normally pick fights in the halls or intrude on my neighbors’ privacy.”

“It’s fine, really.” She paused. “Can I ask what that fight was about?”

He blew out a breath. “My ex-girlfriend sent her brother around to—hell, I don’t know. Convince me I was making a mistake?” He ran a hand through his hair. “We broke up over a month ago, and honestly, it should have happened a while before that. She’s a nice person, but we didn’t fit.”

“Sorry to hear that.” She finished her coffee and needed more. “I need more coffee. You?”

“Sure, if you’re offering.”

“You did bring the first cup.” She left the table to fix a pot of the good stuff, grinding beans from a local brewery. She glanced over her shoulder to say something and saw him staring at her ass. She flipped her gaze front and felt another blush heating her cheeks. “Do you think your ex’s brother got the message?” A tentative glance back at him showed him fixated on one of her aunt’s funny dish towels that hung over the handle of the oven door, so maybe she’d been mistaken about him staring at her butt. She rejoined him at the table.

“Huh? Oh, Dan. Right. I hope so. I’m not into fistfights over women.” He snorted. “I’m not into fights, period. Now my sister, she’s the one you need to worry about.”

“Yeah?”

“Auggie—short for Augusta, and she hates that name—lives for drama. She breaks up with her fifth boyfriend in two months? Drama. Loses a quarter? Drama. Thinks I’m not answering her calls fast enough? Drama.”

Justine snickered. “That’s funny. My sisters are so the opposite. My oldest sister is the son my father never had. She’s smart, pretty, and vicious. Basically, his mini-me. She married his protégée, a financial guru with the personality of burnt toast.” She paused. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I sound like a horrible person.”