Wanting My Assistant

Chapter 24

It's been a few days since the art museum and I still can't get over that amazing night. The days have gone by quickly, work coming and passing as quickly as the days. But it's been peaceful. Nothing crazy happening and I've been able to relax. Nothing has been able to make me as happy as I had been a few days ago when Dawson offered to take me anywhere I'd like. I wanted to go the an art museum and he took me. No questions asked. No complaints. He just asked a time and then we went. It was...indescribable. I've never been more excited to go somewhere in my entire life. I talked so much while we were there, explaining things to Dawson, and he listened. He held my eyes as I explained things to him, told him what I knew. It felt magical. He didn't cut me off or tell me to stop my rambling. He never got annoyed and walked away. He walked with me and listened.

It's been nice waking up late every morning with coffee waiting for me along side a delicious breakfast. But nothing I like ever lasts. I need to get back into my routine. Wake up early, go for my run, take a shower, get changed, and head to work.

But when Dawson's standing in the kitchen without a shirt on...Fuck. It leaves my head as fast as it had come. It's the view I get every morning. After a night of horrible sleep and achy muscles, Dawson's standing in the kitchen cooking something. Or drinking a cup of coffee. He always offers a massage and most of the time, he does it no matter what I say. He's been insisting that I take the bed since it's been causing me so much discomfort. But I refuse. I can't sleep with him. Especially when he sleeps without a shirt...

Snap out of it!

Cheater!

I blink, coming back to what is really happening as the clink of a plate echoes in my ears. Dawson hand slides the glass plate across the counter top, his large hand grasping the side of the plate gently. Steaming breakfast sits in front of me now, a mug of my coffee sitting next to the plate filled with eggs and toast and bacon.

My stomach growls. Dawson chuckles softly as he slides onto the bar stool beside me, taking a sip from his black coffee. "How can you drink just straight black coffee?" My mouth blurts the thought out before I can even catch it. Those pools of red glide my way, a smile playing in his eyes as he takes another long sip. His Adam's apple bobs with each swallow and it makes my mouth run dry.

My eyes glide down Dawson's naked torso. Soaking up every bulge and ridge I can see. How could a man like him be single? I've been asking myself that question almost every day now.

It's been about a week since we've gotten to Las Vegas. And the night of the art museum still replays in my mind over and over. That lady made a mistake for taking us as a couple. It's not like we were making out against a wall or something. Maybe an innocent look for two...and the hand holding—but that's not the point.

My fingers wrap around the warm steaming mug of coffee and bring it to my lips and take a sip, my eyes still roaming.

"I just do." He drawls, setting his mug down and picking up his fork. My heart does that weird flipping thing when his eyes find mine again. A smile curves onto my lips and his tip up in the same way. His chest rises and falls with steady breaths while mine falls quickly, the way he's looking at me makes my skin tingle. It feels like he's holding me. Touching me. Caressing me. Just by the look in his eyes.

   Does Ryan ever look at me like this?

   Shit.

   I clear my throat and look away, down at the plate sat on the counter in front of me, still steaming with heat. It smells delicious. I grab the fork next to me and dig into the mouthwatering breakfast before me.

   It's a nice morning to be sitting outside. The sky is clear with the rising sun and the birds are out, flying high above the buildings. Though it's a beautiful morning, last night was horrible. I couldn't sleep. I was freezing and no matter how much I tried to bury myself into the couch and blanket, nothing worked. I even ended up just shutting my eyes and curling up into a ball, forcing my eyes to remain closed as my teeth fucking chattered. Eventually I fell asleep but it was the worst night possible, worse than the nights before. By the time I heard movement in the kitchen, I was up and trying to warm myself.