Page 63 of Robbin’ the Rich

13

MICAH

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that I wasn't alone. I laid there for a moment, staring at my ceiling while Robin slept beside me, one arm stretched across me and one leg hitched up against my own. Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting golden stripes across the bed and illuminating her dark curls.

I carefully moved her arm and got out of bed. The house was still quiet as I moved around the kitchen. Coffee brewed while I mixed pancake batter. Music played softly from my phone propped against the toaster.

It felt domestic. I was halfway through flipping the first pancake when I heard footsteps in the hallway. I glanced up, and the sight nearly robbed me of my breath. Robin stood in the doorway rubbing sleep from her eyes. She was wearing one of my old band shirts.

The shirt had fit very differently on me. I was a fairly average-sized man. Robin was a gorgeous plus-sized woman. The shirt stretched across her chest while the hem hit just above the swell of her delicious ass that was covered only by her black panties.

For one very long second, I completely forgot how pancakes worked.

Robin yawned.

I looked away before I did something stupid like stare. Unfortunately looking away didn't help, because now I was imagining looking, which had me no less hard.

"Morning," she said sleepily.

"Morning." My voice came out a little rougher than intended.

Robin wandered toward the kitchen island and snagged a banana from the bowl sitting there. God. I liked her here. She stopped beside the stove and leaned in for a kiss. It was the kind that felt like a habit, like we have been waking up just like this for years instead of weeks.

"Everything smells like campfire,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind."

“Not even a little, you can wear my clothes anytime,” I said before pulling her in for a quick kiss. “I can wash your clothes if you like."

Robin blinked. "You don't have to do that."

I shrugged and flipped another pancake. "It's one load."

For a second she looked like she was going to argue. Then something softened in her expression. "Okay."

The word shouldn't have made me nearly as happy as it did. This meant she would stay for at least a few more hours. A lazy morning with her, complete with coffee and pancakes, was just what I wanted. Especially if it meant she was going to be wandering around my house in just that t-shirt and underwear.

I poured another pancake onto the griddle while Robin climbed onto one of the bar stools and watched me cook.

"What?" I asked.

She smiled into her coffee mug. "Nothing."

"Liar." I pointed the spatula at her. "You're staring."

Robin's grin widened, but she nabbed a piece of bacon from the cooling plate. I shook my head and returned to the pancakes while her laughter filled the kitchen.

After breakfast, I carried Robin's campfire-scented clothes down to the laundry room. The washing machine rumbled to life, and when I returned upstairs, I found her standing in front of my game shelf.

Robin turned with a controller already in her hand.

"You have Smash Bros."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why do I feel like I'm being challenged?"

Her only answer was a grin. Twenty minutes later, I was being destroyed.

"I don't understand," I said, staring at the screen in disbelief.

Robin's character launched mine into oblivion for what felt like the fiftieth time.