Page 33 of Free Me

Tadhg:T

Tadhg:F ?????

Tadhg:Stef’s still there aren’t they

Me:Yes. We’ll talk later. I promise.

There are more dancing dots before the next text comes through.

Tadhg:Count on it. Have fun. Be safe. Use protection.

Me:Fuck off. Love you.

Tadhg:Love you too

I close out of the app and set the phone on the table to find Stef smiling at me, eyes dancing with mirth. “So, everything okay?”

I pull them against me and settle on the pillows. “It’s fine. Tadhg’s being nosey.” Stef’s stomach growls and I feel an answering rumble in my own belly. I smack them on the ass. “Alright, up. I’ll make us breakfast.”

Stef gasps and rolls off me so quickly it’s hilarious. “Breakfast? Excellent!”

We haul ourselves out of bed, and I shuffle to my dresser, pulling out two pairs of sweatpants, tossing one at Stef. “They’ll be big on you, but it’ll be cute as hell.”

They roll their eyes and step into them as I’m pulling on my own. “They will lookamazing.Everything looks amazing on me.” Stef winks. “Even you.”

I stifle a moan as their words bring me right back to last night and how incredible they felt, buried deep inside me. My morning wood is on board with the idea of a repeat, but if we start something now, we’ll never get out of the bedroom. Not that the idea doesn’t have its own appeal. Rather than tell Stef any of that, I chuckle and roll my eyes.

They reach down for the T-shirt I wore yesterday, plucking it from the floor and pulling it over their head. It’s my heather-gray shirt with the Blanton’s bourbon logo on the front, and the same logo and bottle in gold on the back.

I wrinkle my nose. “I wore that all afternoon yesterday. It has to smell. Why not pick a clean one?” I open my dresser drawer and offer them their pick.

Stef shakes their head and presses the fabric to their nose, inhaling deeply. “This smells like you. Wearing it’ll make me feel like I’m wrapped in your arms.”

I focus on calming my racing heart. Even if it’s cheesy and a bit dramatic, their words are absolutely hitting me in the feels. I want to grab them and squeeze them so tightly. So I do because there’s no reason not to. “Then it’s yours.”

Stef laughs and hugs me, kissing my cheek. “You are such a softy, Blake. I never knew that about you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a well-hidden secret.” I kiss them lightly on the lips. “Keep it safe.”

We finish getting dressed and five minutes later, I’m rummaging in the fridge for our breakfast options. “How about omelets?”

Stef taps their chin. “What kind?”

Chuckling, I run through the list of ingredients in my refrigerator. “Yes. Yes to all of that in an omelet. I’ll sit here and look beautiful while you cook.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Smiling, I get to work preparing a breakfast worthy of the beautiful sleepyhead currently perched on the island barstool.

Stef spots my French press and heads right for it. “Ohhh! These actually make the best coffee. I approve.”

“I’m so glad. I was worried my coffee-making options wouldn’t live up to your expectations.” I wink at them.

They snort. “Whatever. I’ll make the coffee. It will be fabulous.”

“Like you?”

“Exactly! You understand me.”

God, I love this. We move around the kitchen together, preparing breakfast, completely in sync, and it feels so natural. There are moments of comfortable silence peppered with teasing, or one of Stef’s hilarious observations on the world. Now and then we stop for a soft kiss, or a gentle caress. After making the coffee, Stef perches on the stool, sipping happily and stealing bits of my freshly sliced mushrooms and swiss cheese to munch on while they wait.

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