Apartment 311

Ch | 56

Noah Silas Anderson

Chapter Fifty-six: "My body, your canvas"

I managed to wake up early and sneak from under Brooklyn's body. She was a light sleeper, I learned, and I know she hates being woken up so I was careful.

Gael and I returned from our morning workout and stopped in the kitchen.

He used the machine and asked me, "You want coffee?" My face curled, objecting. Coffee is not for me, I tried, but it's never good.

"Never liked coffee," I told him what he should've already known, and grabbed a plastic bottle of water from the refrigerator. I gulped some down, enjoying the refreshing taste, and asked, "How was your night?"

Gael came over to the table and pulled out a chair to sit on. Cracking his neck, he responded with, "Uh, I fell asleep on Cassie, you?"

I clenched my jaw and shrugged. "Jerked off then passed out," I grunted, crushing the now empty water bottle. "I'm hungry."

"Sucks to be you, Cassie is always down." Gael sipped his coffee and agreed, "Me too. You cooking?"

My mouth tightened hearing about him and Cassie. "So was Brooklyn until recently," I grumbled, "now she has all the rules and standards."

When my stomach growled, I rubbed my stomach as I stared in the fridge. What did I look like cooking for myself when I'm hungry? Pfft. That's what his sweet, sexy mom is for.

"Why can't the girls cook?" I sucked my teeth, letting the refrigerator door close.

Gael leaned back and ran a hand down his chest. "Guess you back to them lotion days," he laughed. "But I don't even have to have to initiate sex anymore. She just goes for it, no questions asked," Gael cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders, content.

My jaw dropped in shock. Well I'll be damned.
"The fuck is this, 'Freaky Friday', they switched roles?" I laughed, popping my head in the fridge yet again. "I'm starving, where's my baby Rachel when you need her?"

"Shit, I guess," Gael laughed at me. Then he replied to my question, "I'll tell her to drive down and make food or get Cassie's ass up to cook?" I thought that was a good idea.

"Yeah, let them cook," I spoke, "I'm going to take a shower." I pushed off the counter and jogged upstairs to the room Brooks and I claimed before.

I entered the room, peeling the soaked beater off that stuck to my skin. Brooklyn was by the window stretching, I was just glad to see her awake.

"Oh, hey," she said, clearing her throat. When she turned to face me, I saw her naked face and smiled at her natural beauty. I don't even think she packed her makeup and that's another thing that sets her apart from other girls.
I constantly found myself mentally apologizing for judging her on the cruise when, in reality, she's nothing like the rich, stuck-up girl I made her out to be.

Her thick, long hair was out of its ponytail, wild, and still crinkled from the braids the day before.

"Hey, girl," I greeted her first. She skipped over and clung to my body with no hesitation.

She giggled, "Hey, boy," and stood on her tiptoes to kiss me. I could smell the toothpaste and lavender body wash on her.

"I'm hungry," I told her, "can you cook for me?"