Page 306 of Well Played

The sun shonebrightly through his bedroom window. He was warm, and comfortable, nestled in his blankets. Shifting, a cloud of warm, perfumed air rushed up as the comforter settled back on his body. He reached across the bed for the soft, lush body he shared the night with.

It was empty.

He opened his eyes, rose up on his elbows and looked around the room. He tried calling out, his voice rough with sleep. Then he heard soft singing from his kitchen. A smile curled on his lips and he reached for a pair of sweats, pulling them on before heading out of the room.

She was wearing his shirt.

The white button-up shirt was barely buttoned, the curves of her breasts framed by the parted placket front. She was singing to the music coming from her phone, buzzing around his kitchen, pulling things out from his fridge and placing them on the countertop.

She was making him breakfast. Real breakfast. Most of the women he’d woken up with would curl into his side and suggested all the places he could take them for breakfast and tobe seen. He was a trophy to them to parade around. None of them would have even thought of cooking for him.

But Lila was in his kitchen, wearing his shirt, making him breakfast.

“Hey, angel,” he said, leaning on the counter, his voice still husky from sleep.

“Hey yourself,” she breathed, smiling shyly at him. “Hope you don’t mind, but I thought maybe you’d want a nice cup of coffee and some breakfast.” She handed him a cup of coffee. “Two sugars and one cream, right?” she asked as she set his plate before him.

He took a healthy swallow, pleasantly surprised she’d remember how he liked it. “Perfect.”

Over easy eggs, crispy bacon, and fried rice. “I had rice?” he asked as he picked up his fork.

“Yeah,” she said, bringing her plate to the other side of the counter to sit next to him. “I tossed out a few things that looked like they were gonna start walking away, but your rice was still ok.”

“You didn’t have to do that, babe.”

“I know,” she said, “but I wanted to do something nice for you and couldn’t make you breakfast before I sorted out what was good.”

The buzz he felt as he watched her moving around in his kitchen flared warmer. “Thanks.” Taking another sip of his coffee, “I thought I was dreaming, gorgeous woman making me breakfast, looking like sin.”

“Looking like sin?”

“You in that button-up shirt, baby.” He shook his head. “You look like a wet dream come to life.”

“You should talk.” Her gaze raked his body. “You in those slutty, slutty sweatpants.”

“Slutty?”

“Nando,” she said, turning to face him. “Those sweats, riding so low on your hips, your happy trail and that vee on display.” She bit her lower lip before adding, “Anyone into guys would be wondering just how much effort it would take to push those sweats off your hips and see if there are boxers or briefs underneath.”

“Commando, baby.”

Her eyes widened as her gaze went from his eyes down to his waist then back to his eyes again. The smile she gave him made the heat rise in his cheeks. “Like what you see, babe?” he drawled.

“I’m sure I will,” she said. “But first, breakfast.” Taking a forkful of rice, she murmured, “You’ll need your energy.”

He winked at her, “There’s no problem with my energy, babe.”

“Big talk, sleepy head.”

“I’ll show you big...”

They lay in his bed,wrapped in each other’s arms, dozing in the late morning sun. The chimes of his phone broke the silence. He reached over with one hand to answer it, the other arm curling Lila closer into his side. She rolled over, head cradled into his shoulder, warm hand resting on his chest.

It was his brother.

“Hey, Dork.”

“Hey, bro,” came the reply. Lila murmured, rolling to face away from him but still curled into his arm. Amador chuckled. “Am I interrupting anything… or anyone?”

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