Pillow Talk

Chapter 21

Rolling over, Nixon's hand reached over to the other side of the bed, only to feel an empty space.

He opened his eyes, squinting as the sunlight seeped through a slight gap between the curtains.

He briefly wondered if last night had been a dream.

Rustling in the kitchen, brought him to his feet as he dawned a T-shirt and padded barefoot in the same direction.

He was pleasantly surprised to find a fresh pot of coffee laid out on the table. Nixon couldn't help but to breath in the aromas of freshly made food. There was none in sight though.

His attention was diverted to the lounge, only to find Freya busy neatening up the place. It was kind of amusing but definitely a sight he wouldn't mind seeing everyday.

Her wet hair was left loose and his old Beatles T-shirt hug loosely off her body, exposing her right shoulder. He could clearly see one of his older pairs of shorts peeking out from underneath the T-shirt. Someone had been busy in his closet.

He felt strangely pleased with that thought.

Just like him, Freya was barefoot and humming a tune he didn't quite recognize.

Nixon cleared his throat, drawing her attention immediately from the couch she was dusting up.

The bright smile she gave him made his heart flutter and for the first time in years, Nixon felt like there was light at the end of the tunnel.

"You're awake.", she exclaimed happily, "Good morning."

Well, she wasn't running, that was a good sign, he thought.

"Good morning tesoro.", his voice was raspy and Nixon didn't miss the red tint that settled on Freya's cheeks.

She was obviously thinking about last night. Fuck, he was hard now.

"You're hungry?", she asked, approaching him.

He was hungry alright but for something other than food. Surely his sexual appetite for her was completely abnormal.

"Uh sì.", he stuttered out quickly, running a hand through his hair. He needed to calm the fuck down.

She smiled as she passed him to go to the kitchen.

"I hope you don't mind. I took a shower, only to realise I had no clothes. So I kinda helped myself.", she muttered out, slightly embarrassed.

"Va bene.", Nixon responded.
(It's okay)

In actual fact it was more than okay. He was enjoying the level of comfort they had obviously reached. It's almost like a heavy burden had been lifted off the both of them. Plus he thought she looked beyond sexy in his clothes. So yeah, it was okay.

Freya smiled, pleased with his answer.

He moved to join her in the kitchen, "Can I help with anything?", he asked, noticing that she'd pretty much navigated her way around his kitchen.

Fuck, he could without a doubt get used to this.

"Could you get two mugs please?"

"Sure."

Nixon pulled out two mugs from his cupboard as Freya opened the oven to reveal two nicely plated omelettes with toast on the side.

"You cook?", he blurted out stupidly making Freya laugh.

"I do cook you know. I just don't get a chance considering that we have people to do that at home."

Nixon didn't miss how her smile dampened after she'd mentioned home. The conversation they'd had last night was still fresh in his mind.