Breaking and Entering (Reece Bibby)

Chapter 5

 I woke up the next morning to the smell of sizzling bacon drifting into my room. I got up and tied my hair up into a messy bun before making my way into the kitchen. Reece was standing in front of my electric skillet, a pile of bacon on a plate next to him.

"Hey, darlin'. How'd you sleep?" He smiled at me when he saw me walk in.

"Good. How's the guest bed? I've never actually slept on it before." I laughed before grabbing a piece of bacon and putting it in my mouth.

"Pretty comfortable. I would have rather slept in yours though." He winked at me and I opened my mouth in shock.

"How dare you even think about that." I shook my head, laughing at him.

He grinned. "What? I'm only joking. God knows you wouldn't have been able to keep your hands off of me if I was in your room. We wouldn't have gotten any sleep."

I gasped. "Reece Bibby get out of my apartment right now!"

"I'm joking, I'm joking! Now eat this lovely bacon I made." He turned the skillet off and moved around the island until he was sitting next to me, the bacon between us.

"You didn't have to do this, you know. You've already done enough."

"Nonsense. You let me spend the night in your flat, the least I could do was make you breakfast."

"I feel like we should eat something other than just bacon." I laughed, putting another piece in my mouth.

"I won't tell if you don't." He smirked at me, a drop of oil on his chin. Without even thinking I lifted my left hand and wiped it off with my thumb. Reece's smirk quickly changed to a smile and we stared at each other, neither one of us wanting to look away. The sound of an alarm going off finally brought us out of our trance.

"What's that for?" He gave me a confused look.

"That would be the alarm I have set to tell me it's time to get my ass behind my computer and write."

"Write?"

I nodded. "I'm a writer. Well, I'm supposed to be a writer. I haven't ever actually published a book. I'm supposed to have a finished manuscript done in less than a month."

"What's it about?" He seemed genuinely interested.

"That is a great question. Wish I could tell you." I took a bite of yet another piece of bacon. It was so good, I couldn't stop.

"You have less than a month to write an entire book and you don't even know what you're going to make it about?" He opened his eyes wide.

"I'm having a bit of writer's block. Every time I sit down to write I just end up erasing everything I've typed."

"It's like it's not good enough, right? Like the words aren't painting the picture you have in your head?" Both of us had stopped eating at this point.

"Exactly. Do you write?"

"Songs and poems. Mostly songs, but on occasion I write poetry. I couldn't imagine ever writing an entire book though."

I shrugged. "It's not that unmanageable. I've done it before."

"Why don't you publish that one?" Reece stood up and began picking up from our breakfast.

"I tried. My publisher wasn't a fan." I got up and helped him clean up. "It's okay though. I'll figure out how to write a new one eventually."

"Can I read it?"

"Read what? My book that was deemed rubbish by my publisher? No way."

"Aw, come on! I bet it's not rubbish." He frowned at me, sticking his bottom lip out.