Page 26 of Made For Me

“What time is it?” I ask him, now fully awake; there is nothing that will get me to go back to sleep, especially knowing he’s in bed with me.

“Seven,” he says, and then the bells go off again and it’s his turn to groan as he rolls on his back and reaches for the phone on the bedside table.

I make the mistake of turning and looking at him, he’s still wearing his suit pants and shirt. His hair is loose and all I want to do is bury my hands in it and pull him to me. “I think that was a sign to get up.” I laugh at his back.

He turns onto his back now as he blinks away the sleep from his eyes. “I can’t believe you slept in your suit.”

He puts his hand on his stomach. “I didn’t think I would fall asleep,” he admits as he turns and looks at me. “I was waiting for you to fall asleep before I left. I heard you snoring and then I was going to head out.”

I gasp out, “I do not snore.”

He just smiles as he puts the hand that was on his stomach on top of his head. “Sure you don’t.”

“You could have gotten comfortable.” I get up on my elbow. “At least gotten under the covers.”

“And have you see me semi-naked.” He laughs and I can’t help but laugh with him.

He gets up now and looks down at me. “Everyone has seen you naked.” I can’t help but stare at him. “Jamieson even drew a picture of you on your wake board naked.”

He claps his hands and the chuckle escapes him. “That was funny.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Maybe for you, but imagine Jillian’s face when she opened the paper and saw it. He even drew your penis hanging.”

“Michael wanted to kill me, it looked like I had a third leg.” He turns to walk out of the room. “I’ll start the coffee.”

“I’m going to jump in the shower,” I say, and I think he mumbles something but I just head into my en suite. I close the door and walk over to the shower, turning it on before I go to the bathroom. I get into the shower, putting my hands up in front of the water to wash my face. “How was last night?” I talk to myself. “Oh, good.” I splash water on my face. “Do anything special?” I turn as the water runs down my back. “Oh, nothing really, had dinner in bed with Chase and then slept like a baby in his arms.” I chuckle to myself. “Yeah, a totally normal thing to do.”

I turn the water off and wrap myself in the white terry cloth robe, stepping out and smelling the coffee right away. I walk to the kitchen and then I smell bacon also. He stands in the small kitchen, his white shirt now off. His back to me, his ass making those pants look better than anything I’ve ever seen, and the need to sink my teeth into it makes me shiver. His hair is now pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck. “So you sleep fully clothed but cook shirtless?” I ask him as I step in and go to the cupboard and grab a coffee cup.

“I didn’t want to get grease stains on my shirt,” he says, and all I can do is shake my head and ignore the need to watch him.

“I will never not approve of you doing anything shirtless.” I bring the cup to my mouth and take a sip of the hot coffee, hoping that I burn my tongue so I can stop fucking talking.

“Do you want to start the toast?” he asks and I put four slices in the toaster. I walk over and grab the utensils and the orange juice, placing them on the table in the middle. I place two placemats next to each other and then I think maybe I should have them face-to-face. I spend way too much time overthinking it, and when I turn around, he’s walking from the kitchen with two plates in his hands. I have this crazy sense of déjà vu and I have to shake my head to stop the thoughts that are coming at me.

“I finished your eggs,” he announces as he places a plate down in front of me and then another in front of himself.

“I’ll grab the coffee,” I say, walking away from him and the way this whole thing feels like it’s a normal thing for us, because it’s not. The only times we’ve had breakfast together is when we were on vacation with each other or if the family is having a brunch. Him cooking for me is definitely not a normal occurrence in my life.

I fill my cup with more coffee and grab the half-empty cup beside the stove, refilling it also. “You forgot glasses for the juice,” he informs me when I feel his hand on my hip as he towers over me as he reaches for two glasses.

I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding when he walks back to the table, my heart beating so fast in my chest, it’s all I hear in my ears. I place the cup of coffee in front of him and slide into the chair beside him. “Thank you,” he says, picking up his coffee cup.

“I think it’s me who should be thanking you for making me breakfast,” I reply nervously, and I swear my hands are going to leak soon they are so sweaty with nerves.

“What are your plans for today?” he asks as he grabs a forkful of scrambled eggs.

“I have to be in court at ten,” I say. “Then I think I’m going to go into the office and read through Monica’s file again and make sure everything is in place.” I grab my own forkful of eggs. “What about you?”

“I have to be at the rink at ten, it’s optional skate.” He takes a bite of toast and I wonder if he is going to tell Michael about making me breakfast. “There is one of the rookies who got hurt last time and he’s taking it bad. So I’m going to go in and train with him.”

“You just rescue everyone.” I push down the way my leg moves nervously when I think he just stayed with me to make sure I was okay. I mean, I don’t even know what I was expecting. “You might need a cape to match the hammer,” I joke with him and he laughs. Again, I feel like we’ve done this before, except this time I lean over and kiss him on his neck, right where I know his heart beats.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” I state, getting up and leaving half my plate. “I’m not really a breakfast girl.” He raises his eyebrows. “When I’m not on vacation or hungover.” His lips roll as I grab the cup of coffee. “Finish mine.” I push the plate to him. “Leave the dishes, I’ll clean them up,” I urge, turning and walking away from him before I do something stupid like drop my robe and straddle him.

Closing the door behind me, I walk over to the side table and grab a pair of lace panties, slipping them on before I walk over to the closet where I grab a pair of cream-colored pants. I take the robe off, tossing it on the bed and seeing his jacket there. “Fuck,” I curse, putting my lace bra on and just grabbing the first brown short-sleeve shirt I see. Grabbing his jacket, I rush out of the bedroom door, hoping to catch him before he leaves. Instead, I find him cleaning the kitchen. “I said I would clean,” I remind him as he closes the dishwasher and turns to look at me.

This time his dress shirt is back on. “I had time,” he says and he looks at the jacket in my hand. “Did you think I left without it?”

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