Chapter 6
Arianna
After setting up the television in his bedroom for me, Denham called down for food to be sent up and instructed me to rest for the evening. He spent most of the evening stretched out on top of the bed covers, by my side, but had to answer a lot of calls. It made me realize how much time and dedication it takes to run The Kingdom. Time that he has been spending with me instead, which probably makes his day more difficult when he does get to work. I know I need to work on finding some independence. My job, my future. All the things I never thought I’d have. I need some time out from our whole crazy bubble, because as much as I love being with him, I still need to find me again. I guess I’ve never really known who I am.
After eating, we watched old black and white movies and made out like teenagers. It was perfect, other than the headacheI had, and the ache in my ribs, which made it hard for me to get comfortable. I try my hardest to remember what happened after Denham left me, but nothing comes back. It’s just one of those things that I may never have an answer for, so I should really let it go, but it’s bothering me. I drift off to sleep with my head resting on Denham’s chest, soothed by his steady, strong heartbeat, the rhythmic way he strokes my hair, and the gentle way he lets his fingers entwine around my loose curls.
When I wake, the morning light is streaming through the window. I’m confused for a second, as it doesn’t seem like two minutes ago that I was draped across Denham and watching silly movies. I glance to his side of the bed. He is flat out on his back, on top of the covers, still fully clothed. He’s clutching his cell phone in his hand, and even as his body sleeps, it’s clear from the frown lines that are etched deeply across his forehead that his mind has much to think about. I’m restricted by the covers trapped underneath him, but I wriggle as close to his side as I can and drape my arm across his chest. He stirs, smiles, places his cell on the nightstand, and cups his hand gently around the back of my head, all without even opening his eyes.
“Good morning, Stunner,” he groans in a gruff, sleepy voice.
“Morning.” I smile. This is most definitely my favorite way to wake up.
“How did you sleep?”
“Like the dead.”
“Ari,” he scolds.
“What?”
“You didn’t sleep like the dead. You slept like a baby…or…”
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” I giggle.
“How do you feel today?” he asks, brushing a stray curl from my forehead.
“Well, I’ve only been awake for all of three minutes, but my head’s not cloudy, and I actually think I feel pretty good. Almost normal.”
“Is that possible?” he teases.
“Hey!” I slap his chest but not hard and he pretends it hurts, curling his knees up and groaning.
“You wounded me. I need to be kissed better and then made breakfast.”
“Oh, really …”
“Yes.” He rises to a sitting position, and I roll onto my back as he swings a leg over my waist so he’s straddling me. His hands rest on either side of my head “The only thing that will make me feel better is bacon, coffee, and croissants, aaaaaaaand kisses,” he says in his deep, sexy, husky morning voice. He dips his head and brushes his lips across mine. He then trails gentle, barely there kisses across my cheek and along the sensitive spot underneath my ear which makes always sends a shiver down to my toes. “And I’ll take them all after I’ve had a shower.” He springs off and lands on his feet, giving me a wink and disappearing into the bathroom.
“You’lltakethem all?”
“Yes, only because they will be given freely and in abundance,” he says, chuckling as he disappears.
I contemplate following him into the shower, but I decide to surprise him and start on breakfast instead, before he gets back out.
I throw on one of Denham’s white button-down shirts over my tank and boy shorts. It smells of him, and I’m instantly comfortable in it. In fact, I don’t think he’ll be having this shirt back any time soon.
I rummage through the cabinets to find that Denham does not have very much food here at all. He isn’t the domestic god he wants me to believe, and unless I want a protein shake forbreakfast, we either need to eat out, or call room service. Then it dawns on me that in the little time we have spent together, I don’t know what he likes to eat for breakfast. I don’t even know what his favorite food is. We don’t know very much about each other at all. Which is fine, just odd, given how comfortable we are in each other’s company. We have plenty of time to find out the little things. The things that make us tick, and the likes and dislikes that make us different from everyone else, and somehow similar to one another.
Coffee, I know for sure he likes coffee in the morning. He’s made us coffee countless times, and I know he takes it black.
“Holy fuck.” His deep voice resonates behind me; he hasn’t showered away the gruff sleepiness in his tone. I turn and find his eyes roaming the length of my legs. I smile shyly, trying not to feel embarrassed about the way he eyes me so freely, but I just can’t help it. My first instinct is to cover up, and even after him drumming it into me that I need to be confident and unapologetic, old habits die hard. I take in the damp strands of hair that rest on his forehead, and the way he smells fresh and sexy. I also notice the little water droplet that rests in the hollow just below his Adam’s apple, before it drops and makes its descent across his skin. Lucky droplet.
I walk toward him and push a mug of coffee into his hand. His lips are at my eye level, and when he parts them ever so slightly it triggers goose bumps to traildown the back of my neck.
“There’s nothing to eat in your fridge,” I say softly, resting my palm flat on his chest.
“Who needs food when I have you in my kitchen, dressed like this?”
