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Mason
My internal alarm went off at five-thirty like it always did, but for the first time, I didn’t jump out of bed and throw on my gym clothes.
Reaching out for my phone, I turned the ringer off, so that Emily wouldn’t be disturbed. She felt so perfect, her soft body clinging to mine as she breathed deeply. Allowing myself a good twenty minutes to simply enjoy being close to her, I finally slipped out of bed.
Picking up her clothing from where I had tossed it everywhere, I draped it over a chair, smiling to myself at the lavender dress being such a pretty spot of color in my monochromatic room.
Instead of my regular gym clothes, I pulled on a pair of faded black jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Leaving the door open, I figured Emily would find her way back to the kitchen when she smelled coffee.
Normally I had my housekeeper Sheila leave prepared food for me for my next day’s breakfast. But since I didn’t know what Emily liked, I’d sent Sheila a text, requesting that she take the weekend off once she had set out last night’s dinner.
I looked around the space with a critical eye. Most people had brightly-colored kitchens, filled with plants and personal touches like a bowl of lemons or a frog that holds the pot scrubber.
My home looked clinical. Sterile. Like it was ready for a snobby magazine photoshoot. It wasn’t an appropriate place for my lovely, vibrant new girlfriend to hang out, much less live in.
Wanting Emily to be comfortable in this space, I sent a few detailed emails before putting the kettle on.
My life had become uneven. I read extensively on business advancements, investments, managing teams, and growing one’s empire. I’d never sat down to think about my personal life. I hadn’t made any space for it. There had been no reason to, up till now.
I ground the smoky dark roast Colombian beans, then prepared a simple pour over in the large carafe. Pulling out my laptop at the kitchen table, I lost myself in work for a few hours.
It was just past nine when I heard a sweet voice from the doorway. “I knew you could make your own coffee.”
Somehow she’d found the only two colored pieces of clothing I owned – an old pair of greenish gray track pants, and a bright teal t-shirt from my college days. Her wavy hair was slightly askew, giving her an adorable rumpled look.
I darted over to pull Emily into a deep, sultry kiss. Her
lips parted for me so naturally, wanting more, as I held our bodies completely together for every single inch of contact.
“Good morning,” I growled, my first words of the morning sounding scratchy . Her eyes widened at the lower tone. I’d have to remember that.
“It’s a bit early for a Saturday,” she smiled.
“I’m usually up at five-thirty,” I said.
“Even on weekends?”
“Yes. It’s helpful for the circadian rhythms to keep the sleep and wake cycle on a consistent schedule.”
She laughed merrily as I jumped up to fill a coffee mug for her. “Mason, I don’t want to change you, but you might want to consider loosening up a teensy bit on weekends.”
“I’ll consider it,” I said, arching an eyebrow. Then I burst out laughing so hard that she joined me.
“What is it?” She giggled as she poured a bit of milk into her coffee and sat at the large black lacquered table.
“Nobody has told me what to do in years,” I explained, still chuckling. “I have experts who advise me. I have people who send me all sorts of information. But nobody gives me their honest opinion. Except you.”
Sitting beside her, my hand rested on her knee. “I think I like it,” I said softly. “It’s just – unexpected.”
She smiled, sipping her coffee slowly, then rolling her eyes. “Good grief, every single coffee is better than the last. How do you do it?”
“Apparently it’s healthy to have a non-work hobby, to keep your mind engaged in a completely different direction on a regular basis,” I explained. “Most hobbies take an inordinate amount of time and energy, which I don’t have to spare. So I found something I already enjoyed and became a bit of an expert on it, purely for my own entertainment and gratification. With the exception of learning how to pull an espresso shot.”
Emily’s left eyebrow quirked up. “My boss is super hot when he speaks like a robot,” she laughed.
“I love that you laugh at me.”