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Iwake up the next morning, my entire body deliciously sore with the man responsible wrapped tightly around me. I’m on my side and he’s pressed into my back with a hand around my middle and I can hear him snoring lightly behind me. I desperately need to use the bathroom so I untangle myself as best I can from him, grateful he doesn’t wake up before I move into his bathroom. My hair is still wet from the shower we took together last night but he brushed it out for me after, so thankfully, it’s not a total rat’s nest.
I grab the toothbrush he’d given me and wash my face, ecstatic that he actually has face wash and not just a bar of soap. After I’m finished in the bathroom, I see he’s still sleeping, which I’m not surprised about; I’m fairly certain the sun was starting to rise when we finally finished fooling around. I’m still naked and without his body heat, a little bit cold. My eyes snap to the view outside his window and I blanche looking at the snow pouring from the gray sky. I can already hear my dad now.
Stay there or I’m coming to get you. Do not Uber or let one of your friends drive.
I wince as I grab my phone, and surely enough I have a text from my dad this morning saying just that.
Sure, Dad. Please come get me from my boss’ house who I spent the night with having the best sex of my life. Did I mention it’s totally against the rules, I could probably get fired, and I’m really into him?
I move to the other end of his bedroom to his closet and am truly in awe at the size of it. I run my fingers over his rows of suits and dress shirts noting that everything is organized by color and then by style. I spy some sweatpants that I know will be huge but I pull them on, tying them as tightly as possible to keep them on and a Harvard business school sweatshirt.
I make my way out of the closet and note that he’s still asleep, still curled around the space where I was, and is now using the pillow I slept on. I grab my phone before quietly slipping out of the room and down the stairs because one, I’m starving, and two, Wes gets a little hangry in the mornings. I open the refrigerator spotting some eggs and bacon and more importantly, the coffee maker on the counter. I consider making him pancakes for about half a second because that’s a risky choice based on how inconsistent I am with them. Half the time they’re perfect, and half the time it takes me fourteen tries just to get two that are edible.
I can almost hear Avery’s mom, who runs the best café in town in my ear telling me not to over stir the batter and that it’snottime to flip it—while I’m in the middle of flipping it.
Eggs are easy and I know how he likes them. I start on the bacon first so the eggs don’t get cold and it only takes about five minutes after the smell of it wafts through the kitchen to feel hands wrapped around me and lips at my neck. I giggle thinking about what my grandma always said: “There’s two ways to wake a man up in the morning, sex and the smell of bacon.”
“You’re in my clothes and cooking me breakfast. Are you trying to seduce me? If you wanted sex, you should have woken me up.” He presses a kiss to my cheek and I turn to face him.
“I was freezing and hungry.” I touch my nose and it still feels a little cold despite standing at the stove. “What do you keep the temperature at?”
He chuckles and moves around the corner. “Thermostat is over here.” When he comes back around the corner, I shoot him a glare. “I turned it up!”
“What was it at?” I narrow my gaze at him.
“Sixty-five.”
“During a blizzard?!” I say gesturing towards his window.
“I get really hot.” He shrugs as he starts brewing himself some coffee.
“Yes, because that’ssoindicative of the way you were sleeping literally on top of me!” I say, sarcastically. “That is too cold. I am never coming over again.”
He rolls his eyes. “Sure, honey.” The thought that it’s already a foregone conclusion in his mind that I’d be back sends a sizzle through me and I turn back to the bacon. “You know, when you’re here, you’re not my assistant. You aren’t responsible for making me breakfast.”
“I know, but I’m not making breakfast for my boss. I’m making it for the guy that gave me multiple orgasms last night.”
He presses a kiss to the side of my head. “Well, he appreciates it.”
I start making his eggs, as I pull the last of the bacon out of the pan and put some bread in his toaster. “So, not to totally overstay my welcome but my dad will have a fit if I come home right now with the way the roads are and I’m not about to ask him to come get me. So, would you mind if I hung out for a bit?” I say without turning around. I know he’s attracted to me, but I also know he’s busy and may not want someone hanging out in his space all day regardless of the amazing sex.
“You could never overstay your welcome and you are absolutely not leaving right now.” When I turn around, he’s looking at me from over his glasses. “I can take you home later or tomorrow. They say it should stop tonight.”
Tomorrow?!
I turn back to the stove. “Okay,” I smile with glee and breathe a quiet sigh of relief when I realize I cooked his over-easy egg perfectly and didn’t break the yolk. I put everything on a plate and slide it in front of him before I begin scrambling my eggs. A few minutes later, I’m seated next to him and it just feels sodomestic.Sitting here with him. In his house. On a Saturday morning.
“So, what do you normally do on weekends?” I say as I pull the mug to my lips.
He takes a sip of his coffee. “Work mostly. During the summer and early fall I play golf. In the winter sometimes I’ll go watch college football at a bar or with Chris. I went to the University of Michigan and since you went to Penn State, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that football is kind of a religion.”
“You do remember who my dad is right? Football was kind of a religion before I could walk.”
He laughs. “Of course.”
“I can remember more than one Christmas I spent in a box suite actually.” A faint smile finds my lips because although it’s not a particularly painful memory, it just serves as a reminder of how different my life was compared to my friends.
“What was that like?”
