Jack
I don’t remember fallingasleep, but I held this beautiful woman in my arms so tightly, afraid if I let any space between us, she’d snap out of it and want to leave. Run as far away from the broken man as possible. But she didn’t. She hasn’t pulled away at all, and that doesn’t terrify me. It thrills me and makes me believe I could be worthy of this woman. I didn’t come to Strutt’s Peak thinking I would stay for long, but as I hear her breathing so close, feel her nuzzle into me to keep warm, I don’t know that I have it in me to walk away. Why would I walk away from something I’ve always wanted?
Yesterday we spent most of the day in bed together. Always touching each other in some way. Sometimes it was nothing more than drawing small circles on her arms or Everly dragging her fingers through the short hair at the nape of my neck. I don’t know that I’ll ever be tired of touching her. The only break was while we ate Chinese takeout for dinner. As soon as we were done, we came back to her bed and watched a double feature.
Over salty buttered popcorn we argued which movie could be considered the best sequel of all time. I said Godfather: Part 2, and she scoffed adamantly, saying that it has to be Terminator 2. So, we watched both. I held some part of her the entire time with a few intermissions for sex and a shower, and then sex in the shower, but we always came back to holding the other. Part of me was afraid if I didn’t hold her in some way while we lied in bed, that I’d wake up and realize I had dreamt it all.
“I can hear you thinking, you know?” she whispers, her head laying on my chest.
“Oh yeah, and what am I thinking?”
“Hmm, let’s see…” She sits up, moving to rest her chin on my chest to look at me. “You’re thinking that falling into bed with me is the most pleasure you’ve ever experienced, and to show your gratitude you're going to bring me a hot coffee and maybe something with carbs in bed.”
“You’re good. I could go for a coffee.” I drop a kiss on her lips and move out of bed. When I turn back to look at her, she’s burrowed under the covers and is already back to sleep.
I make my way into the kitchen without seeing any of her brothers, which, to be honest, I’m glad. I’m on a mission, and I want to get back into that bed as soon as possible. The clock above the door reads six-forty-five, and I pull out everything I need to make us breakfast. It seems like the perfect time to make another batch of waffles.
All the ingredients and waffle iron are where I left them last. I work quickly, brew coffees, and find a tray so I can carry it all upstairs. It’s not lost on me that I’m making my comfort food for her, and it feels different, to feel like I’m taking care of her in a very small way. Something a part of me craves to do with the people I care for. And I do. I care for her. No, more than care. Fallen. I’ve fallen hard for her, and it knocks me back. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but just that it has. And I’m happy. I’m freaking out at the weight of it. About falling in love with her, but I’m so fucking happy, I think I smiled the entire time I made breakfast.