Page 97 of Beyond the Fame

He cleans me up in my bathroom and then we dress and go downstairs to make something to eat.

We’re sitting at the bar that overlooks my living room, finishing our last bites of the sandwiches I made when Jensen clears his throat.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is Saturday. I have no plans. I’m all yours.”

“Good. I have a surprise for you.”

Chapter 24- Jensen

I wake Rebecca up at nine the next morning, forcing her out of bed and helping her put on a robe. She curses me out, whining about needing more sleep. We’d stayed up late to watch Star Wars: A New Hope. She loved it. I knew she would.

I’d glance at her before an important or exciting scene was about to happen and she reacted accordingly. Though I’m convinced she did that because she caught on that I was watching her. Still, she truly seemed to enjoy it and even said she can’t wait to watch the rest of the movies.

I slip on my boxer briefs and a t-shirt from the overnight bag I brought with me, then we head downstairs so I can cook her bacon and pancakes and drown them both in maple syrup.

She hums after sipping her coffee and hums again after each bite of food. It's something she does a lot when eating or drinking or kissing. She hums when enjoying the little things like that first night in Hawaii when she ate dinner and dessert.

I realize there are a lot of little things that we still don’t know about each other.

“What’s your favorite color?” I ask when I finish my last bite of pancake. I take the plate to the sink and rinse it off, then place it in her dishwasher.

“Purple.”

I snort. “For royalty.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs. “What about you?”

“Red.”

She laughs at that. “Because you’re always angry?”

“I’m not always angry.”

“Fine, but you’re at least grumpy.”

“You like my grumpy ass.”

“I do like your ass.”

I wink at her and start cleaning up the rest of the dishes I dirtied for breakfast. “Red because I just like the damn color. Not for any specific reason.”

“Favorite type of music?” she asks, picking up on the get-to-know-you game.

“Indie rock.”

“Shocking.” She pops her last piece of bacon in her mouth and brings me her plate and fork. “I love country.”

“Shocking,” I say mockingly, and she bumps her hip with mine.

“Favorite food?” she continues, sitting back down.

“Sushi.”

She scrunches up her nose.

“It’s so good. I could eat sushi every day.”

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