Coffee Shop

• 14 •

Brian's kitchen was the most beautiful space I'd ever seen. Ignoring everything black, like he lived on the dark side, it was perfect and neat, and screamed let's cook and make a mess! Well, it screamed it because I was in it, and normally when I cooked, I did, somehow, make a mess.

Yet, this morning, I managed to stay neat. I said I wanted to leave Brian with happy memories and giving him a filthy kitchen after having his girlfriend over for the first time wouldn't be it.

Thinking just that—girlfriend—I giggled to myself.

"Morning." Brian's groggy voice pulled me from my thoughts as I stood in front of the stove, skillet handle in one hand and spatula in the other. I turned to look at him with a smile on my face as he walked into the kitchen, leaning against the island that separated him and I. Sleep still covered every bit of him, and though he smiled back, his head drooped down into his palm.

"Morning, sleepyhead," I said, winking at him.

With closed eyes, face still in his palm, he gave me a small smile, just enough to bring up that dimple.

"I thought I'd start some breakfast." I turned around towards the island, skillet still in hand. I knew he couldn't see the layout I'd spread out; plates with eggs and sausage, and buttered toast with jam. I'd just finished cooking the bacon since he had both in his refrigerator. I also knew he could eat a ton, so why not prepare it?

"Breakfast?" he opened one eye.

I nodded happily, dropping the bacon onto its plate. "I know it's a mess, but I promise to clean it up as soon as we're done. Then, we can do whatever you like, or—"

Brian didn't even let me finish my sentence as he grabbed a slice of bacon off the plate, finished it in two bites, and came around the island beside me. His hand swept around my waist as I turned towards the sink. When I turned on the faucet, his hand pulled my back against his, and his lips dipped down to my ear.

"I could get used to this," he whispered.

"To what?" I tilted my head to look back at him as the skillet blew steam from under the cold water.

With one hand, he turned it off, while his other turned me and made me face him. And with one step forward, he pinned me between him and the sink. "To this," he said, looking behind him, "and to you."

I watched his hand slowly move up to my face, gently cupping my face before he kissed me. "I like you in my shirts."

My cheeks burned red as his lips met mine again, lingering with the salty taste of bacon mixed with mouthwash. It was weird but alluring, and only because it came from him.

"I always wear your shirts," I whispered, looking up into his golden eyes.

"I know, but how often do you wear them here?" he smirked, his hands grabbing my hips. "With me? Making me breakfast?"

Hot breath came out of me as a sigh, one that made him inch back and bite his lip. He looked at me once over before grabbing my hand, leading me back towards the food. "I bet you made all of this with a smile, didn't you?"

I followed him as he pulled a chair from the neighboring table, placed it beside the island, and placed me on his lap as he sat down. "I did," I said happily, nodding right after, "smiled all morning."

"Oh." With a cocked brow, Brian grabbed another piece of bacon, took a bite, and fed me a small piece, "How about after breakfast, we clean up, mess up the bed, then head out to the beach for a walk before you go home?"

I blinked at the words he'd said in the middle. Mess up the bed? "Brian, did you—"

He nodded, fully understanding my silent, wordless question. Taking another bite of bacon, he laughed in between chews. "Oh, you heard me. I think morning sex followed by an afternoon stroll sounds like a perfect day, don't you think?"