Flavors of Us

Flavors of Us
Golden light filtered through the tall curtains of William’s room. Skylar stirred first, the soft cotton sheets tangled around her bare legs. She blinked, adjusting to the warmth of the sun and the quiet rhythm of William’s breathing beside her.

She turned slightly. His hair was a mess. His arm draped over her waist. His lips parted slightly in sleep.

She couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Even sleeping, you look smug.”

“Can hear you,” he mumbled, eyes still closed, voice rough from sleep.

Skylar rolled over to face him, her finger gently tracing the outline of his jaw. “You snore, you know.”

“I don’t,” he muttered without opening his eyes.

“You drool too.”

He cracked one eye open. “Lies. I’m perfection incarnate.”

She laughed. “Okay, Mr. Perfection. Go make me breakfast.”

“Hmm…” He buried his face into her shoulder instead, arms slipping around her waist. “No. Let’s stay like this forever. Cancel the world.”

“William…” she tried to push him off, but his grip only tightened.

“I’m warm, you smell good, and my bed hasn’t felt this perfect in years.” He looked up with a boyish grin. “Wife, I’m clingy. Deal with it.”

Skylar laughed again, carding her fingers through his hair. “You’re shameless.”

“Only with you.” He kissed her collarbone gently. “I can’t believe you’re here. In my bed. Wearing my shirt. Telling me to make breakfast like we do this every day.”

She softened at his words. “We could.”

He looked into her eyes. “Promise?”

She cupped his face. “I’m not going anywhere, William. But I am hungry.”

He groaned dramatically. “So this is love. Sacrificing sleep and cuddles for eggs.”

She pushed him lightly. “Go before I faint.”

He kissed her nose. “I’m going. But you better follow me down in five minutes. I want more of this… domestic goddess in my kitchen fantasy.”

She grinned. “Only if you flip pancakes shirtless.”

William winked. “Deal.”

And with that, he rolled out of bed, dragging the sheet with him like a makeshift cape. Skylar watched him go, heart full, smile brighter than the sunlight spilling into the room.

Five minutes later Skylar also got out of the bed, yawning and stretching hands. She walked out of the room.

She wandered into the luxurious Scott kitchen in one of William’s oversized shirts. She pulled her hair into a messy bun and began rummaging for eggs and bread.

William walked in, shirtless, rubbing his eyes. “You know the staff can do this.”

“I don’t want staff. I want to cook your breakfast and grandma's as well. She is still not well.”

William leaned against the counter, arms folded, a lazy smile on his face as he watched Skylar crack eggs into a bowl. His bare chest caught the warm morning light, abs flexing with every shift of movement.

“God, this feels dangerously domestic,” he drawled. “You, in my kitchen, in my shirt, bossing me around... I could get addicted to this.”

Skylar smirked without looking up. “Keep talking and your toast’s going straight into the bin.”

He pushed off the counter and sauntered toward her, slow and predatory. “Threats in the morning? Someone’s feisty.”

“I’m serious, William. Back off,” she warned, failing miserably to hide her grin.

He came up behind her anyway, arms sliding around her waist as he tucked his chin over her shoulder, watching the eggs swirl in the bowl. “You smell like sleep and sin,” he murmured into her neck, brushing his lips there just enough to make her shiver. “And I really, really like it.”

“William…” she warned, elbowing him lightly.

“You keep elbowing me like that, I’ll start thinking it’s foreplay.”

She snorted. “At least put on a shirt! The staff is going to walk in any second, and I’m not sharing this view.”

He raised a brow, pulling back just enough to catch her flushed face. “You’re the one who stole my shirt, darling.”

She tried to turn, but he caught her wrist. “Give it back.”

“In your dreams,” she shot back.

He grinned, backing her gently against the counter. “Fine. If you won’t take it off…” His fingers brushed her sides, teasing. “I’ll just have to peel it off.”

She gasped, slapping at his chest. “You’re insane!”

“You love it.”

Before she could escape, he made a grab for the hem of the shirt. She twisted away with a squeal, darting around the kitchen island. “William!”

“Oh no, sweetheart. You started this.”

“You said you had nothing else to wear!”

“I didn’t think my wife would rob me blind in my own house.”

They circled the counter like a pair of mischievous teenagers. Skylar laughed, breathless, as William finally caught her by the waist and lifted her onto the counter, slotting himself between her knees.

He leaned in, voice low and thick. “Only you get to see me like this, hmm?”

She met his gaze, her hand resting on his bare chest. “Damn right I do.”

His lips brushed hers—soft, searching—before deepening into something far more wicked.

“Eggs are going to burn,” she whispered.

“Let them,” he said, kissing her again—slower this time, fingers curling against her thighs as her hands slid up his bare back.

But then—

Bzzzz… Bzzzz…

The phone vibrated sharply against the marble, cutting through the soft hum of their moment.

Skylar groaned against his lips. “Your phone.”

William didn’t move, just sighed against her mouth. “Ignore it.”

Bzzzz… Bzzzz…

She pulled back slightly, breathless, her brows raised. “It might be important.”

He glanced over his shoulder, jaw ticking when he saw the name. “Jack.”

Skylar’s fingers tapped against his chest. “Take it. He wouldn’t call unless it was serious.”

William muttered a low curse under his breath. “That man has the worst timing in human history.”

She gave him a gentle push. “Go.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, grabbing the phone. “This better be life or death, Jack,” he growled as he walked out of the kitchen, disappearing around the corner.

He picked up, tone casual. “Yeah?”

“William, we’ve got a hit. The alias Virus just resurfaced on one of the darknet trace boards we’ve been monitoring.”

William straightened, voice low and sharp: “Are you certain it’s the same one?”

“Everything matches—the coding fingerprint, the network signature. It’s her. No doubt.” Jack’s voice crackled through the line.

William’s eyes darkened, his mind already racing. “Location?”

“Not yet." Jack replied. "The post was routed through three proxy chains. But she took an interest in a data recovery lead... tied to footage from The Meridian Grand.”

William’s expression hardened. “The engagement night.”

“Yeah,” Jack confirmed grimly. “Whatever was wiped from the hotel’s security system wasn’t just deleted—it was scorched. Whoever did it knew exactly what they were doing. And we both know she’s the only one who can recover it.”

William exhaled through his nose, every muscle taut. “I don’t care what it takes. Get a message to her. We’ll pay whatever she wants—money, protection, anonymity. Name it.”

“Understood,” Jack said. “I’ll get moving. If she’s surfaced, we can’t afford to waste time.”

William didn’t respond immediately. His gaze flicked to the hallway where Skylar’s laughter still echoed faintly. A storm was coming—and this time, he had to be ready.

At the same time Skylar’s phone rang. Nora’s name flashed.

“Now?” Skylar answered with a yawn. “I’m making eggs.”

“You’ll want to hear this. Someone’s offering a ridiculous sum to hire a hacker—white hat. To recover hotel footage. The Meridian Grand. The day of your engagement.”

Skylar froze. “That footage?”

“Only one person can recover it. Virus. You.”

Skylar’s fingers curled around the edge of the counter. “Who’s asking?”

“I checked. Jack Miller. William Scott’s secretary.”

She slowly turned to look at William’s back. He was busy brewing coffee.

Her voice dropped, more to herself than Nora. “What are you still hiding from me, William? I told you—I hate it when you do this. Even if it's to protect me.”

Sometimes later the breakfast served the sunlight filtered through the curtains as they sat across the table. Omelettes untouched. Coffee cooling.

William glanced up, noticing Skylar had only nibbled her toast and was absently stirring her coffee.

Alright,” he said finally, voice gentle but probing. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Skylar blinked, coming back to the moment. “William…” she began, her voice quieter than usual, “if you’re really done hiding things from me—if you feel even a little guilty about the past—then I need you to tell me the truth.”

He sat straight. “About?”

“That evening,” she said. “Our engagement night. Where did you disappear for so long?”

William’s hand froze around his coffee cup. The question hung in the air like static. For a long beat, he said nothing.

But then he set his cup down and looked at her beginning to burn through the hesitation in his expression. “Jack noticed something strange—someone stealing something important. We saw the thief escaping through the fire exit. I went after him.”

Skylar’s brows shot up. “There was a theft? I didn’t even know.”

“It was serious,” he said quietly. “What was stolen... meant more than anything.”

She blinked. “If it was that important, why didn’t you check the CCTV? The hotel had cameras.”

“We did." William said bitterly. "But the footage wasn’t just deleted—it was wiped clean. Even our tech team couldn’t recover it.”

Skylar’s fingers curled around her mug. This wasn’t random. Someone had lured William away. Someone had gone to great lengths to cover it up.

Whoever did this didn’t want William at that engagement. They wanted him gone. And they made sure there was no trace left behind.

She set her spoon down slowly, decision settling over her like ice.

She stared at William. “I have to find out who did this,” she whispered under her breath.