Chapter 10 I Made You Breakfast
Lydea
When my eyes open and see a man sleeping next to me in my bed with his arm around my waist, only a tiny part of me panics. The rest of me, including my lady bits pulse in remembrance of everything that went down last night in this bed.
Champ shifts in his sleep, and it allows me to wiggle out from his hold. I don’t want to leave the bed. I don’t want to be out of his space. Champ made me feel more seen and more understood in a few hours last night than any man I’ve ever met.
Damn.
I can’t believe my rideshare driver is in my bed right now. This is definitely going in the group chat–after he leaves. They’re going to have a field day with me.
It was unavoidable. He charmed my panties off.
I sit on the edge of my bed and look over at him.
I didn’t notice all the beauty marks on his back last night.
It was hard to notice anything last night aside from how good he was making me feel.
I hold back the urge to lean down and kiss each one of them.
I sit there and smile at his sleeping figure.
The universe worked in my favor last night.
I let Champ rest. He deserves all the sleep he wants after last night.
I’ve been asking for the bare minimum when it comes to men and haven’t been able to scratch the surface of that. Terrible date after terrible date left a bad taste in my mouth. Who knew all I had to do was hop in a rideshare? Now, there’s a sexy barber in my bed, and the world feels right.
In the bathroom down the hall, I wash my face and brush my teeth before heading to the kitchen to brew some coffee.
I look like what I’ve been through, in the best way possible.
All of my hair supplies are in my bathroom, and I don’t want to disturb Champ, so I comb my fingers through my hair as best as I can and head to the kitchen.
While the coffee machine comes to life, I lean against the counter in my robe and grin. Last night did an okie doke on me for real.
I’m grateful.
One thing I know for sure is that when a man rocks your world, you wake up and make that man a meal. With my overly sweetened coffee in my favorite mug, I get to work.
The bacon sizzles in my cast iron skillet, and my mind is not in the kitchen. It’s remembering all the ways Champ touched me last night. All the places he kissed. The feel of him stretching and filling me. My body trembles with an aftershock.
Bacon grease pops me on my arm.
“Shit!”
I rub at my arm and return my focus to the task at hand. The biscuits have a few more minutes in the oven. The eggs are scrambled and in the bowl waiting their turn to be cooked, and this angry bacon is just about done too.
Mama trained me right. This meal is perfectly timed and ready to eat, but Champ’s still asleep.
As if summoned by a finished meal on the table, Champ enters the kitchen wearing only his boxer briefs. They leave nothing to the imagination.
My heart pounds in my chest at the sight of him. He may be all I need for breakfast.
“Morning.” His voice is still rough with sleep, and my knees almost give way. I didn’t think there was a way for him to be sexier.
“Hey, I made you breakfast.”
He chuckles, taking in the spread on the table. “That you did. Thank you.”