Fleckless

Chapter Eight

Jake's Pov

As she disappeared into the bathroom, a surge of determination washed over me. I knew I had to make us breakfast—I wanted to talk to her, to connect on a deeper level. After all, what better way to start the day than with a meal and meaningful conversation?

Reflecting on the events of last night, I came to a startling realization: I didn't want to let her go. There was something about her, something that resonated deep within me. She completed me in ways I couldn't have imagined, filling the voids I never knew existed. Wrapped in her arms last night, I felt a sense of belonging, a warmth that seeped into my soul.

Waking up this morning with her nestled against me felt like the most natural thing in the world. At that moment, I knew—I wanted to wake up to her every other day, to share my life with her in a way I had never shared with anyone else. She had become my anchor, my confidante, my everything. As I set about preparing breakfast, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.

As I rise from the bed and slip into a pair of pants, I make my way to the kitchen, my mind buzzing with ideas of what to prepare for breakfast. After a brief moment of contemplation, I settle on pancakes. After all, who doesn't enjoy a stack of fluffy pancakes?

With a sense of purpose, I gather the ingredients and begin mixing the batter, the rhythmic motion of stirring soothing my restless thoughts. As the aroma of cooking pancakes fills the air, I can't help but feel a sense of anticipation, eager to share this simple yet comforting meal with her.

With focused determination, I pour the pancake batter onto a hot griddle, savoring the sound of it sizzling as it cooks to golden perfection. Each flip is executed precisely, ensuring that each pancake is fluffy and evenly browned. Once they're done, I carefully stack them on a plate, the scent of warm maple syrup mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

As I set the plate of pancakes on the kitchen island that doubles as our dining area, I brew a pot of coffee, the rich aroma filling the air and awakening my senses. With a practiced hand, I pour two steaming cups and place them on the table, ready to be enjoyed alongside our meal.

Just as I'm about to start frying sausages to complete our breakfast spread, I hear the soft patter of Liz's steps making their way to the kitchen. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips, unable to contain my excitement at sharing this meal with her. It's a simple gesture. But, one that feels like the beginning of something extraordinary.

"What's all this?" Liz gestures with her hands, her expression curious yet tinged with amusement.

"Breakfast, love," I reply casually, turning to face her with a small smile playing on my lips. Her eyes sparkle with a mixture of surprise and affection.

"Of course, I know it's breakfast," she retorts, rolling her eyes playfully. "But why did you make it? I could have ordered in."

Despite her scowl, she still looks beautiful to me. I walk over to her and plant a brief kiss on her lips before returning to the sausages sizzling on the stove.

"Stop admiring me, Lizzie, and sit your pretty ass down," I tease, turning to face her with a playful grin as I hold a plate of sausages in my hand. Setting the plate down on the counter, I reach for a stool and motion for her to sit.

Liz chuckles at my remark, her eyes sparkling with affection as she obliges, settling onto the stool with graceful ease. As she sits, I can't help but feel a surge of warmth in my chest, grateful for this moment of shared intimacy amidst the hustle and bustle of our daily lives.

As she helps herself to a plate, she takes a sip of coffee, a grin spreading across her face. How she holds the cup brings back memories from last night, filling me with affection.

With a fork in hand, she delicately slices off a small pancake and brings it to her mouth, savoring each bite. She lets out a moaning sound and my cock thickens in my pants. Lizzie has a knack for imbuing any action with a touch of sensuality.

I gaze at her, my eyes brimming with admiration. She claps her hands, not with a loud applause, but in a manner reminiscent of a child's joy. Her excitement for the food is palpable.

I reach my leg to hers and gently trace my toes up hers.

Under my touch, she shivers, her eyes fluttering shut as she leans into the sensation.

I pull back, my expression turning serious as I gaze at her. "We need to talk," my words reverberate in the confined space of the apartment.

It takes a moment for Liz to process my words. Her expression shifts to fear, resembling a child caught in the act, anticipating a scolding. I give her a few moments to respond, but she remains seated, her wide eyes fixed on me, the silence between us heavy with unspoken tension.

"About us..." I say slowly, my gaze fixed on her, carefully choosing each word. Lizzie flinches, and my expression softens, sensing her reaction.

Her words hit me like a sudden gust of wind. She stands and turns away, her back to me. "There's no us," she says, her voice firm. "Last night was a mistake."

Anger courses through me like wildfire. I rise to my feet and stride towards her. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, and she avoids meeting my gaze. Without hesitation, I wrap my arms around her shoulders, gently but firmly, and tilt her face upwards, forcing her to meet my eyes.

"Look me straight in the eyes and tell me that I'm the only one who felt a connection," I demand, my voice trembling. Her silence is deafening, devoid of any visible emotion.