I was definitely sweaty and slightly out of breath. I remembered my dream and had to take a few slow breaths to calm my pounding heart before I allowed myself to move. As quietly as I could, I lifted my arm from Aiden’s waist and started to ease away from him. As I did, I heard Aiden move and felt his fingers tighten around my forearm.
“Don’t go,” he whispered in the darkness.
I froze momentarily and then looked up to his eyes. They were still closed.
“Why not?” I whispered back. I didn’t know if I would get an answer or not. I wasn’t sure if he was even awake.
“I like you here,” he replied simply as his eyes fluttered open. He tucked his arm under my shoulders and pulled me against his chest. “It’s nice having someone close again.”
“Again?” He didn’t answer. His eyes were closed now, and his breath was slow and steady. I rested my head against his shoulder and listened to him sigh as he settled back against the pillow.
Curled up against him, I inhaled his warm, musky scent and fell back to sleep. When I woke, there was sunlight coming through the window. I was still in the same basic position, and Aiden’s arm remained underneath me, holding me against him.
He was still sleeping, so I decided to ignore my bladder and just lie there for a while. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes again. Lying against Aiden was incredibly comfortable. It wasn’t just the physical closeness or the way our bodies seemed to mesh together so perfectly but more that sense of comfort and security I had felt with him since he put his arm around me at the airport.
I was warm, safe, and content.
He stirred slightly, and I tilted my head to watch him open his eyes. He blinked a few times, stretched the arm that wasn’t around me over his head, and his stomach muscles rippled.
“Hi there,” he said as he focused his eyes on mine.
“Hi,” I responded, suddenly feeling a little shy. It was ridiculous, but the feeling was there anyway.
“This is much better than the first morning I woke up like this,” Aiden remarked.
“Why is that?” I asked, smiling.
“Because today I get to make you breakfast.” He beamed as he wiggled his arm out from under me.
“You really like to cook, don’t you?”
“I do,” he said. “It’s a lot better to cook for someone else than just for yourself.”
I remembered what he had said in the small hours of the morning and wondered who else he used to have in his life.
“So, who did you used to cook for?” I asked.
“How do you like your eggs?” Aiden asked. “I could do omelets, too. Do you like omelets?”
“I love omelets.” I didn’t miss his avoidance but also didn’t ask again.
“How do you feel about Swiss cheese, green peppers, and mushrooms?”
“That sounds fantastic!”
He grabbed my hand and kissed the back of my knuckles just like he had the night before.
“It will be my pleasure.”
Breakfast was fabulous. The omelets were perfectly cooked and accompanied by fried potatoes and orange slices.
“I could get used to this,” I remarked. I sucked down another orange.
“I could, too.” Aiden smiled slightly before standing up and clearing away the dishes. “Want more?”
“Sure!”
He refilled our plates, and I kept eating despite the full feeling in my stomach. It was just that good. While we ate, we chatted about our favorite foods. I got up to refill our glasses of iced coffee, and Aiden leaned far back in his chair and rubbed his stomach through his T-shirt.