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I ran a hand through my messy,good-morninghair.
I looked back at my bedroom door.
“Wait a second,” I whispered.
Was I just romantic?
I drove Hazel home.
We were mostly silent.
Other than the occasion random comment or her telling me where to turn for a shortcut.
I had the most intense urge to reach over and hold her hand.
Something about our day and night together had her bothered.
I wasn’t the kind of guy who felt shy when it came to uncomfortable conversation.
I waited until I was pulling up to Hazel’s house.
“Do you think we’re not going to talk for a month?” I asked.
“What?”
“There’s something going on here, love. What is it? Is it because we argued? Because we ended up in bed? Because the sex was hot? What is it? Are you rushing home because of… what, Hazel?”
“I just want to be home,” she said. “Why would I worry about us, Atlas? You made your stance clear.”
“I said one thing, one time.”
“Tell me that’s not the truth.”
“I don’t know what the truth is right now, love. I know that you’re pregnant with my child. And I told you I will not abandon you or my child.”
“Okay. Then we have nothing to worry about.”
She opened the passenger door.
I reached for her. “Hey. What is it, love? You didn’t want to have morning sex? You didn’t want to spend the day with me? Tell me something.”
Hazel took a deep breath. “You know, I could go for some breakfast.”
“Name the place.”
“Right here.”
“Here,” I said. “Your place.”
“Yeah.”
“So I drove you all the way home for me to come inside and cook you breakfast? Do you really think you’re that good in bed, Hazel?”
“That’s not even the entire thing.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Hazel slowly grinned. “You’re going to go inside and cook me breakfast.Shirtless.”
