Wanting My Assistant

Chapter 20

   The smell of coffee warm in the air greets me as my eyes flutter open. A soft groan leaves me as I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. I shift and the fuzzy blanket that had been draped over my body fell off me and onto the floor. The sound of something sizzling makes my eyes flutter. Slowly, my eyes open to reveal me on the couch. I yawn again, pushing myself upright. The white shirt I'm wearing is bunched up around my hips and a sigh leaves my lips, my back a little stiff. Probably from the couch. My eyes slowly adjust to the light slipping through the thin fabric of the curtains. I twist around, allowing my back to crack until it feels loose and ready for the day. Another yawn stretches across my face as I push my arms out and crack my fingers.

   The sound of a pan touching the stove makes me turn my head. My eyes widen. Dawson. He's over at the stove, a frying pan clasped in his hand and a spatula in the other. His eyes are focused down on whatever is in the pan. My eyes stray on his biceps as they flex. I can't help but stare. The sound of a coffee machine running again makes my eyes dart away from Dawson's bare torso and over to the coffee machine that is dribbling away with hot coffee.

   "Good morning, ragazza carina," Dawson's morning voice greets me. Tingles shoot up my spine. His voice is so raspy. Gruff and tired sounding, sleep still evident in his eyes a little too as he turns them towards me. I glance away and rub my eyes, "Morning Dawson," I mumble out. I let out another yawn and then my eyes snap wide when I realize that my underwear is showing. My body shoots up from the couch as my hands yank at the soft fabric around my body. Embarrassment crawls under my skin as the fabric finally falls back down to the tops of my thighs. Dawson chuckles from the kitchen and the embarrassment grows hotter.

   Silence stretches out between us as I redo my messy bun. Watching Dawson cook at the same time. He's so precise with his movements. Not a single misstep within his routine. His hair is messy from sleep and I can't help but glance over at the bed which is already made. Who makes their bed right after they get up? Nobody. I clear my throat, trying to rid my sleep heavy voice and walk towards the kitchen where Dawson stands, pouring hot coffee into two white mugs.

   I round the counter and stand across from the fridge, the smell of breakfast and coffee making my stomach growl.

   "Do you like egg omelets?" He asks as he turns around and sets the white mug in front of me on the counter. I quickly nod my head and wrap my hands around the mug before bringing it to my lips. "It's hot." Dawson warns me with a quick glance over his shoulder. I blow some air onto the steaming life support in my hands and go to take a sip, "I didn't add anything to it. I don't know what you like," he states and I quickly set the mug back down and wrinkle my nose. I'm not drinking straight black coffee. Not happening.

   Dawson spins towards me, a small grin on his face "I expected that reaction." I refrain myself from rolling my eyes and open the fridge to find it already stocked with food and drinks. "Wow," I breathe out, "Okay."

   "I had it stocked before we got here." Dawson quips like it's no big deal. His back is turned to me now as he tends to the food on the stove. I nod my head, yeah, totally normal.

   A small smile stretches across my lips when I find skim milk sitting in the door of the fridge. Carefully popping the seal, I pour it into my coffee until it turns a softer tan. Then I recap the milk and put it back in the fridge. "Want any sugar?" Dawson asks and my eyes find his large, tall, muscular body once more. With the nod of my head, a small little round container of sugar is slid across the counter towards me. "Thanks," my voice is so gravely in the morning. It sounds higher pitched and it makes me sound so weird. I hate my morning voice. I take the container and pour about two teaspoons worth of sugar in before stirring my coffee together with my finger quickly. Trying not to burn myself.