Chapter 33 A Sexy Clark Kent
Chapter thirty-three
A Sexy Clark Kent
Jo
When I wake up the next morning, I’m lying like a starfish in the middle of Beau’s bed. I instantly know I’m alone. Even being as small as I am, I would feel his large body next to mine.
After having a big stretch, I roll out of bed. I make a quick trip to the bathroom before heading to find Beau.
When I do, he’s in the kitchen, standing at the stove. I don’t even notice what he’s cooking because I’m too busy staring at him. He wears grey sweatpants with nothing else. His hair is pushed back and is slightly damp like he just got out of the shower.
To top it all off, he’s wearing glasses. Why is that so hot? He looks like a sexy Clark Kent or something.
Realizing I probably look a bit creepy, I finish walking in and greet, “Morning.”
He turns toward me and smiles. “Good morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?”
“Actually, really well. I can’t believe I slept through the night. I meant when I said that never happens.”
“To be fair, we used a lot of calories last night.” He raises an eyebrow at me.
“True. If I get sleep like that, maybe we’ll just have to do that every day.”
“That is something I’ll gladly sign up for.”
“Speaking of that,” I say while looking him up and down. “How the hell do you look so good in the morning? That should be illegal.”
He shoots me a half-smile. “You think I look good?”
“Don’t do that.” I poke my finger into his chest. “You know you look good with your grey sweatpants and your glasses.”
“When did glasses become sexy?”
“I have no idea, but they’re doing something for me.”
“Good to know.” Wrapping his arm around my waist, he pulls me in for a kiss. It’s a hell of a way to start my morning.
I’m just about to suggest we take this party back to bed when he pulls back and says, “I’m making omelets. Hungry?”
“Always.”
“What do you like in yours? I’ve got cheese, tomatoes, peppers, spinach, and onions.”
“Uhm, cheese.”
“And?”
“And more cheese,” I say with a big grin.
“Alright, one super cheesy omelet coming up.” He gets to work and adds, “You still have the palette of a five-year-old I see.”
“It may have actually gotten worse since I don’t have my mother shoving vegetables down my throat.”
“Do you also still suck at drinking water?”
“Absolutely. My blood is primarily Red Bull, Dr. Pepper, and booze.”
“You should really take better care of yourself,” he tells me.
“I’m quitting smoking. Doesn’t that count for something?”
He smiles. “Yeah, it does.”
“Baby steps, my guy. Baby steps.”
I sit down at the table as he sets the omelet down in front of me. I waste no time cutting into it and popping a bite into my mouth. Steam pours out as I start huffing and puffing, trying to cool the bite I just took.
Beau gives me a confused look.
“Hot,” I mumble.
“You did see me just take it off the stove, right?”
“I was hungry.”
He just laughs at me.
When he sits down to join me, I say, “This is really good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies. “But I don’t think just feeding you deserves a thank you. It’s really not that big of a deal.”
Clearly, he doesn’t comprehend just how awful my previous relationships were. That’s okay. If I fully explained that, I don’t think it would make me look great either.
“Still,” I say. “Do you cook for all your girlfriends?”
“All?” He smiles. “How many do you think I’ve had?”
“Well, it’s been ten years. I imagine quite a few.”
He takes another bite of his omelet. “It hasn’t been that many.”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “With the way you use that thing inside your pants, I’d say you’ve had a lot of practice.”
“You asked how many relationships I’ve had. I can practice without putting a label on it.”
I laugh. “Fair point.”
I definitely understand the concept.
Looking at him, I ask, “What about Christie?”
“What about her?”
“Was there a relationship there, or was it just practice?”
“Why do you want to know?” He quips.
“Call it curiosity.”
“You know that killed a cat, right?”
“Don’t want to tell me?”
He laughs. “I’m just giving you shit. Christie and I just had sex. That’s it.”
“Sorry for prying. It’s just crazy to me that you two hooked up. She was a pretty big bitch back in the day.”
He finishes the last bite of his omelet and sets his fork down. “Oh, I remember. But one day, she and I happened to be at the bar, drowning our sorrows. We got to talking, and it just kind of happened. We never even considered taking it further.”
Relief washes over me, but I’m not quite sure why. Did I think he was going to be a monk?
I go on to ask, “Was there anyone you were serious with?”
Why do I care? Do I really want to know the answer?
“I had a couple girlfriends, but it was never serious.”
“Why not?”
His eyes stare into mine. “Maybe because I knew no one could compare to who I really wanted. I was holding out hope for her.”
I feel my cheeks turning red. I’m not that good at taking compliments or heartfelt exclamations.
Wanting to add a little humor to this conversation, I say, “Well, now that I’m back, I’ll have to protect you from Christie.”
He laughs. “I’m happy to hear that.”
“Is there anything you want to ask me?” I question so that we don’t have secrets.
“Nope.”
“Really?”
“Jo, I’ll always listen to anything you want to tell me. The good, the bad, and the ugly. But I don’t need details about how many guys you’ve dated…or practiced with.” He smiles.
I grin back. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, I don’t need to hunt down some jerk and kick his ass.”
It’s odd hearing Beau be protective. When we were younger, I was usually the one protecting him. It blows my mind how much things have changed.
I change the subject again. “So, what do you want to do today? Or do you have big plans?”
“No plans. I usually do nothing on Sundays. It’s my day to relax.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, trying not to sound bummed.
“Do you want to hang out and be lazy with me?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“On if I can walk around half-naked while we do it.”
He gives me a sexy grin. “I would be offended if you didn’t.”